Season 2 Episodes 5 - 6 from my perspective: short story collection 5
by Sweepeaspatch
Summary: Our favourite characters are still at it.
1. Chapter 1

Story List

1\. S2 E5 – Say It With Flowers #1

2\. S2 E5 - All He Has To Offer

3\. S2 E5 - Say It With Flowers #2 (3 parts)

4\. S2 E5 - I'm Your Key

5\. S2 E6 - A Flicker in the Grass (10 parts)

6\. S2 E6 - Be A Happy Richard (2 parts)

7\. S2 E6 - The Green-Eyed Monster (5 parts)

8… WiP

 **S2 E5 – Say It With Flowers #1**

He has given her the spray of orchids and now sits beside her on the beach at sunset. They watch the sun slide lower, the light deepening from amber to blue, the waves quieting as evening rolls over the island. Neither knows what to say next.

Camille breaks the uncomfortable silence first. She knows she has to otherwise he's liable to begin a conversation about god-knows-what… and she has a very specific topic in mind. She looks down into the flowers but speaks to him, "You once told me you didn't understand a system of matrimony based on the random distribution of flowers."

"Did I?" He watches the waves, so hypnotic, so soothing. Like her voice.

"It was during the Dead Bride case. We were on the street after dark and you were watching all the newlyweds… so in love and so oblivious to everything around them… including us."

"Was I?" He is beginning to float on the cadence of her voice.

"You were so strange and foreign to me. I didn't understand you in the slightest. I know now that you were totally lost and adrift. You must have been very afraid and lonely. You had no home. You had no one and nothing. You didn't have a friend in the whole wide world." She pauses and waits for him to rise to the bait, to argue and challenge her view… but he doesn't. He's watching the ocean and nodding. She takes another tiny step, "Not like now."

"Now?" He shifts slightly, thinks briefly then agrees, "No, not like now." He is at peace. She's accepted his offering and now it is time for a new beginning. He feels the time and the moment is upon them. It is now or never. He turns to her to see that she has turned to him in the same instant. He quirks an eyebrow, suddenly cautious, "Yes?" She is studying him and stroking the orchids ever so gently. He can almost feel the soft touch of those fingertips on his own skin as he continues to look at her... DOES feel them. He looks down. Her hand has left the flowers and is brushing the back of his hand. He looks up at her. She seems to be miles away.

He clears his throat, "Um, Camille? Do you realize you're touching me?"

"Um?"

"Touching me. You're… oh, never mind. What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking how nice it would be to touch you. Not that you would ever allow it, of course, but it would be nice all the same."

"Um… yes, actually, it would, wouldn't it?" He slides ever so carefully closer. She is still looking at him in a dreamy sort of way. "Camille? Are you actually awake?"

"I think so. I've very tired but I think I would know if I were asleep. Wouldn't I?"

"Well, I'm not really sure. You seem awake but… what else are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking Aimee would have loved to meet you. We used to talk, you know, about our ideal men? You are nowhere near what I thought I wanted. How she would laugh at that!"

He stills, his hand frozen where it is almost on her back, "I'm not?"

"No. Not at all. But that's OK. I was foolish and silly back then. I know better now."

He drops his hand but curious minds always need to know… so, "What do you know now?"

"First, I thought I wanted someone tall, loud, funny, life of the party, you know? Someone like Dwayne. Then I thought I'd like someone serious, quiet, utterly dependable and brave, like Fidel. And THEN I thought I didn't actually need a man… I could blind-date myself into spinsterhood then join a convent and lead a quiet life. But THEN… something happened. Something totally unexpected and something I wasn't prepared for… I met you."

She stops talking, gives him a chance to respond. Nothing. He is still as stone. "Richard? Did you hear my opening gambit? This is where you make a witty reply and we begin serious negotiations. Richard?"

He starts, raises alarmed eyes to hers, "A NUN?! You want to be a NUN?!" No one has ever yelled "FIRE!" with more fear and alarm than this!

She sits up in surprise and grabs his shoulder, "NO! Richard! Aren't you listening? I said I THOUGHT about it! I was in a dark place in my life, sliding into my 30's with a dangerous never-ending job full of scumbags and low-lifes. No nice men THERE! No nice men ANY where. Your Croydon crowd isn't unique, you know. We have them in France too."

He sits up abruptly, "DO you? Did someone try something with you? Give me his name and I'll…"

She runs her hand down his arm to cover his sudden fist, "Relax. It was a long time ago and far away." She shoots him a tiny grin, "Besides, he eventually got the use of his arm back." Here Richard flinches a bit and rolls his right shoulder. She scoffs, "Oh, believe me, yours was a love-tap compared to his!" She glances away, "I regret doing that to you. Every day. You have no idea. Putting you in an arm-lock was the LAST thing I wanted to do. I don't know why I did it and I'm very sorry. Truly sorry."

"You did it to show me my manners. I should never have touched you… no matter the provocation. Also… perhaps to re-enforce the 'no man policy'?"

She groans faintly. He's obviously missed everything she'd said after he heard the word 'convent'. She sighs and tries to catch him up, "But I DO need a man. A very particular man… and I found him… but there are obstacles."

He turns to her in consternation, "What sort of obstacles?" He had indeed missed everything after the word 'convent'.

"Well, there's me… and there's… him."

Now he looks away, over the sea, his heart beginning to break afresh, "And what sort is he? The Dwayne version or the Fidel version?"

"Both. Neither. He's something else I'd never even considered." His eyebrows quirk above an almost polite faltering smile. She leans in as if to impart a very important secret, "I never realized how irresistible an intelligent mind can be." He takes a breath to ask a question but she forestalls him and adds, "The green eyes helped a lot too."

He stills, thinks, smooths his tie, watches the waves for a moment or two, then slides just the tiniest bit closer and murmurs, "Um, I have green eyes."

"Yes, you do. Incredibly green. Coincidence, I wonder?"

He knows she knows his opinion about coincidences… that he doesn't believe in them. His green eyes study her very intently. She knows this look too. It is the 'white board' look. He's close.

He hesitates, "I've never mentioned this before but… my IQ was last tested at over 200 and that was five years before I came here and started my real education."

She nods, "I know. I sneaked a peek at your file."

"DID you now? That would take a bit of intelligence on your part to achieve." He snaps his fingers and points at her, smiling, "Wait a moment! Did Dwayne help you?"

She laughs, "He surely did! That man is a savant on the computer. That was the day he stopped arguing with you or questioning anything you said."

"Ah! I remember that day quite clearly. It was blissfully quiet until…" He frowns.

"Yes, until you got your tie caught in the filing cabinet drawer. That ended your sudden mystique and made you 'just Richard' again."

Now he is nodding, "Right, right. 'Just Richard'… that's me. We had a very enjoyable time at La Kaz that night, didn't we? I never laughed so hard."

"Yes, it was just friends enjoying each other's company. Like you and I are enjoying each other's company right now."

He slides closer still and is very gratified to notice an answering movement from her. Not much space left between them now. He shyly raises his hand once more. It hovers nervously against her back before settling lightly, "And do you finally know what you need to know? To be happy?"

She smiles sweetly and leans back into his hand, "I know that you are what I need."

His heart surges and renewed strength runs up his arm, "Am I? Am I really?"

"Oh, yes. No matter what I say, what I do, what I try… you are always there at the bottom of everything. The man I need… and now the man I want."

He slips his arm around her, the space between them narrows down to nothing. Her head is on his shoulder, like she wants to be there, like he wants her to be there… and it's very good.

They sit quietly and watch the waves. She suddenly remembers the orchids, holds them up to her face. They are creamy cool but odorless. She takes a deep breath but cannot find any perfume.

He watches this and says, "Phalaenopsis have little or no scent. I'll get you an armload of Cattleyas next. That should fill my home with a wonderful intoxicating scent that will make your head swim. You know, in the event you need incentive to lose your balance and perhaps fall into my arms."

Her eyes are glowing above the blooms. His pulse jumps. "Richard, I won't need flowers for that… but it sounds wonderfully exotic and not at all British."

He smiles a tiny crooked grin, "Well, maybe I'm part island now. Could happen."

"Mmm, yes, it could. And I like it. A lot."

"Enough to maybe come back to my place and finish this discussion in style?"

She stands up, pulls him to his feet, and wraps her free arm around him, "In any style you'd like. I am wide open to suggestions." She ducks her face into the flowers and regards him slyly above the white blooms, "Can the flowers come along too?" Her smile is wicked.

He shivers and holds her tighter. His world just went nova and he is SO glad to have a trusted partner at his side. Exploring can be dangerous work.

END


	2. Chapter 2

S2 E5 - All He Has To Offer

Richard is distraught because he cannot give Camille the same kind of comfort and support that the other men can. He's tried and he's tried but she scoffs or rolls her eyes or snaps at him and it just makes him all that more determined to DO IT!

Direct eye contact doesn't work. Subtle head movements and holding hands doesn't work. Speech of ANY kind doesn't work. The flowers now… the flowers seemed to work… but not like he thought they would. No surprised smile. No pleased expression. Just a wary watchfulness that scared him. She had looked at him like she didn't know who he was… like he was a stranger… like she was seeing him for the first time… and he remembers the first time… she'd lied to him… kept secrets... mocked him.

He scrubs his face… oh, he doesn't want to go back to the way things were! Anything but that! He has just crossed a threshold of momentous proportions recently. He has realized in no uncertain terms that this island is now 'home'. England is 'away' and a nice place to visit. He has canceled his request for transfer. He is finally feeling accepted and needed and settled and her distant coldness makes him feel so alone once more. It upsets him afresh to think that his happiness hinges so precariously upon another person that he has no clue about. Well, maybe a few clues, but not the big ones that he needs in order to advance his life. As all this whirls through his head, he watches her.

She is sitting out on the veranda, watching the waves. He'd asked her to drop by so they could discuss the final loose ends of the case… but that's not why he REALLY asked her. Did she know? Did she care? He has no idea one way or the other but THIS time… this time he is prepared. As he quietly approaches the door, he slips his speech out of his trouser pocket and unfolds it.

He stands behind her and gently clears his throat, "Er, Camille?" She turns her head towards him but doesn't answer. Well, what's to answer? He wanted her attention and now he has it. "Um, OK, look… I've been trying to tell you something for a few days now and I keep failing. Will you sit there and just listen without interrupting? Please?" After a long pause, she nods and looks back out to the sea. _OK, good. At least, now I won't see the eye rolls that always stop my tongue._ He takes a deep breath and begins to read, enunciating each word with the same weight that they had when he struggled to write this down on his paper.

"Camille, I am very distraught that I could not offer you comfort and support like everyone else seemed to manage so easily. I WANT to comfort you, to ease your sorrow, to help you cope with Aimee's death… I just don't know how. I can't seem to say or do the right things…" He sees her head turn back to him to interrupt… and she promised she wouldn't! He rushes on before she can say anything, "… OTHER than catch her killer… but you should have known that I would never stop until I DID catch the killer. I find our solve-rate incredible. It's highly unusual and I put it all down to you… and the rest of the team. Without you, I'm just a suit in an office pushing papers and facts around like I did back in England. I still solved cases but without ever really feeling satisfied. I just did the best that I could given the tools I had."

Here her head turns back again and he gulps, diverting from his script in self defense, "NOT that I think of you as tools! Never that! I'm just trying to express myself the best way I can… and I know it's inadequate and I'm ill-equipped to even attempt this… but I HAVE to make you understand. I'm upset and I'm sad and I'm so totally out to sea. This is WAY beyond my comfort level but I appreciate your listening. OK, I'm done now. Did any of that make sense? Did I mention I'm distraught?"

She now turns completely to him and gives him a long contemplative look. He had no clue what she's thinking… except she isn't yelling or frowning… so maybe it's a good thing?

She stands up and comes to him. In her bare feet she is very petite… not the dangerous fearsome creature she often presents to the world. Here, now, she is just a woman… a sad grieving woman and he wishes more than anything he could just put his arms around her and COMFORT her! Instead, he stands like an awkward child facing a disappointed teacher, his hands hanging uselessly at his sides. She is thinking about something, he can tell that much. He waits. For what, he doesn't know.

She finally takes a deep breath and looks up at him. She sees the same look she saw on the beach when he offered the flowers. She knows about his surprise switch of allegiance. He'd told her of his transfer cancellation and she knew what it meant… for him. What he didn't know is what it meant for her. His final acceptance of Saint-Marie as his new home opens up a whole new vista to her. She already knows he is trustworthy and good and kind and annoying and infuriating and sweet and gentle and everything she needs in a man… and now she knows he will stay. He will stay and not abandon her. He will stay and she needs to tell him, once and for all, but first she needs to heal. How long will it take to recover? She suddenly thinks, _Why am I wondering that? He'll know!_ She smiles then and sees him relax a fraction, "How many stages are there in that 'Kubler-Ross Grief Model' you tried to tell me about?"

Very solemnly he breathes out, "Five… some say seven but I think it's five."

"Mmm-hmmm. And how long does it take to get over a death?"

He thinks about this. It is a simple straight forward question but he hears an undertone that confuses him. What could she be thinking? Best answer and maybe he'll find out, "That depends on how intimate you were with the deceased. Acceptance is the last stage and it isn't about accepting her loss but your new reality. Aimee is gone and you have to live on without her. Being happy is NOT a betrayal. Aimee would want you to be happy, wouldn't she?"

"Yes, she would. Just as I'd want her to be happy if anything happened to me." She hears his sudden intake of breath and looks up at him, "As I would want YOU to be happy."

"Me? Happy? Without you? I don't… I hadn't… that's…"

"Like you were happy before you came here, right?" _Why am I goading him like this_ , she wonders _? I accuse him of being oblivious but I certainly don't help him, do I?_

"Camille, I WASN'T happy. Surely you KNOW that? You are very good at your job and I'd be very surprised if you really thought I was happy… before."

"Sorry, that was oblique and round-about. I'm really asking if you would miss me if I was gone." The look in his eyes says it all. She settles both hands onto his shoulders and gives him a direct look. Up this close, she is reminded of that dressing-down she'd given him so long ago… _you are a very rude man, indeed._ How things have changed… and his eyes are still as green and lonesome as ever. _Time to change that_ , she thinks. "Richard, I don't know how long it will take me to get over this. You understand these things much better than I do. Maybe if she'd hadn't died in my arms, I might be getting better by now. But… I see what you mean. I can't pretend it didn't happen. You can't stop time, can you?"

"No, you can't. You have to accept and move on. You can't replace her but you can make new connections, new meaningful relationships…" He feels her hands tighten on his shoulders just the tiniest bit and he stops talking. _Is she angry? Does she think I'm using Aimee to push her into something she doesn't want to do? WHAT is she thinking?_

She smiles, "…new meaningful relationships, I like that. I'm almost ready for that, I think." Here she gives him a lidded look, "Are you?"

He stammers, "Yes… yes… I want to stay here now… but not alone. I'm ready. I think I'm ready. I hope I'm ready. Can you answer me one thing?" She nods. "Am I… are we… the new relationship?" He winces like he expects rejection. She smiles at him instead and nods.

"Richard, I'm an idiot. You have to remember that at all times. I wanted your comfort. I NEEDED your comfort. But I couldn't let myself take it. It felt like a betrayal to Aimee. How could I be happy when she was dead? Does that make any sense to you?" He can only nod in mute amazement. "So, as much as I wanted to, I had to act cold and uncaring. I spurned you and you didn't deserve it. But, really, dear heart, you should have just backed off and given me space to thrash about and come to my senses."

"And have you? Come to your senses?" _Dear heart! She called me dear heart!_

"Almost. I can see where I want to be but I'm not quite there yet."

"And where do you want to be?"

"Right here, in your arms, telling you everything you need to hear."

"Well? Why aren't you?"

"Because I am following the 'Kubler-Ross Model', remember? You told me yourself, I have to work my way through all the stages of grief and then I'll be ready to take the next step… with you."

"Camille, that's low, even for you! Using my own logic against me. Hmmm, now I know how aggravating it is! Seems I've learned something valuable out of all this as well." He puts his hands over hers and hesitates, "Just for my own edification, how much more time will you need, do you think?"

She takes his little forgotten speech from his hand and begins folding it up small small, "Oh, I'm not sure. Every day I wake up, I feel a little bit lighter, a little bit easier. One day I'll wake up and wonder where you are and that will be the day I know."

"Know what?"

"That I am ready to take the comfort you have to offer. It's not the same kind of comfort I got from the others. You have a secret and special comfort that only you can provide… a kind that I will accept with GREAT thankfulness… but not right now. When I am done grieving, you'll know. I'll bring up this subject once more and then I will take all you have." She leans in to whisper, "Everything… to the very last drop, trust me on this." She tucks the tiny square of paper into her décolletage.

He blinks hard and draws in a deep breath, slips her hands off his shoulders and holds them in a chaste clasp between them, "I DO trust you. Just don't make me wait too long… and don't do it on a Tuesday."

She laughs in surprise, "Why? What's so important about Tuesday?"

"I clean house and do the groceries. I want everything to be perfect."

She studies him again, "Richard, everything WILL be perfect, don't worry but OK, not on a Tuesday."

He guides her to the wicker chairs. He feels wrung out. Plain speaking is very hard on the system. As he seats her and then sits himself, he feels suddenly uncertain. He just knows he is going to regret this but… "Um, Camille, please don't get angry but we ARE talking about… you know…"

She laughs low in her throat and the hair stands up on the back of his neck, "Oh, yeah… it's 'you know' all the way. Woman-man things, intimate things, things we will both enjoy a LOT."

He frowns, "I hate being so clueless all the time. Maybe once we're together you can help me with that?"

She covers his hand with her own, "Oh, I don't know. It's part of your charm. I'm pretty sure it will clear up quickly once we are actually a couple."

He breathes a sigh of relief, "Oh, good. I can't wait." At her bemused look, he hastens on, "I mean to be less clueless, of course! Yes. Not that I don't want to be a couple, never think THAT! No! It is my dearest wish… but I can wait for that. Not that I WANT to wait but…"

She begins to laugh, "Oh, Richard. I'll miss your clueless self! I really will! You're so damned CUTE with your foot in your mouth!"

He frowns at her as she giggles then sighs and nods, "Yes but no. I won't miss my clueless self at all. You WILL help me with that, won't you?"

"Yes, of course, if I can. Maybe your cluelessness is what makes you such a good detective. I'd hate to be the reason for the lessening of your 'super powers'. Fidel would never forgive me."

As the air darkens around them and the moon crests the trees down the beach, he murmurs, "Maybe you will strengthen my powers. Ever think about that?"

They sit in the dark, listening to the waves, and look at each other in quiet speculation.

 _Oh, yeah_ , he thinks, _it's going to be an interesting couple of weeks. I'll wait and watch and wonder but I just know she will surprise me somehow. Something sneaky. Something French. Something that will take my breath away._

Idly, he wonders how long he can go without oxygen.

END


	3. Chapter 3

**S2 E5 –Say It With Flowers #2**

Part 1 of 3

They are in the Defender, driving to the station from an early morning interview with several witnesses across the island. So much paperwork to do, so much wrapping up to put Aimee's case to bed. She knows he enjoys it… and she enjoys watching him enjoy it. He will still be working away long into the night after she and Dwayne and Fidel have left. She wishes she had his stamina.

She glances over at him. He's been strange this whole case. Stranger than usual. Not that she's been much better. How had she managed to get through this awful episode? By rights, he should have ordered her to stand down. By rights, she should have done it. She sees that he is solemn and decides to lighten the mood with a quip.

She says the first thing that pops into her head, "What IS it with some older men?"

At his frown, she throws up a hand in the general direction of the approaching town, "Oh, you know! Thinking they can seduce young women with some flowers! And a few sweet words! As if! Get real!"

Her scoff dies on her lips at the stricken look on his face, his sudden pallor then hot blush. He turns away, pretending to find interest out his window. _More odd behaviour. What's gotten into him? He didn't know Aimee… so it can't be that. Is he still worried about ME?_ She was sure he knew she can take care of herself… so he can't be worried about that either.

 _What then? What is it? Older men… young women… flowers… Oh. OH!_ She looks down at the seat between them at her orchids, three days old now and still fresh as cream.

Her orchids… lovingly wrapped and gently carried… going back to work with her where they will take pride of place on her desk until she takes them back home to enjoy all evening once more. The orchids that she is so proud of. The orchids that she takes everywhere with her. The orchids she wants to have at her side for as long as they last.

THESE orchids.

HIS orchids.

She opens and closes her mouth several times before she can think of anything to say, "I mean SOME older men!" she blurts. "SOME young-ER women! Not… we… I'm… you…" She stutters into silence. _Well_ , she thinks, _that's that! He did his best and I shot him down in flames! Again. I am SO stupid!_

They drive on for a few more moments before she tries to save herself, "Richard?"

He is the graven image of a man, stony and cold.

"Richard, please!"

Nothing.

Rage flares up. Not at him. At herself. _Oh, Bordey! How can you be so FOOLISH and still LIVE?_ This anger boils over and she's suddenly had enough. Enough silences. Enough quips. Enough uncertainty. Enough of everything! With a desperate yank of the wheel she veers the truck onto the roadside, almost tumbling him right into her lap… which she wouldn't have minded so much except he is now looking at her with absolute shock and rising anger.

Before she can speak, he roars, "Camille! What are you doing? Are you TRYING to kill us both? Trust you to pull a stunt like this the ONE time I didn't do up my seatbelt!"

This strikes her as so funny that she leans into the steering wheel and erupts into laughter. She just can't help herself. All the angst and uncertainty, the loneliness and desperate longing, all the silent looks and stammered half-conversations… it all came down to this... them crashed at the roadside and on their autopsy reports will be the comment, 'Done in by unrequited love and lack of seatbelts'. Her peals of laughter falter… then slowly turn to tears as everything became just too much.

As she wets her hands quietly, she wonders what he is thinking. She sniffs not at all lady-like and isn't surprised to find a neatly ironed handkerchief hovering by her cheek. She takes it without looking at him and wipes her eyes… again. _That's all I've done this past week is dry my tears,_ she thinks. _When will they be done? When will I run out of tears?_ Sneaking a quick look at him, she sees his face and realizes that she probably has many more tears to cry before this is finished.

She tries again, "Richard…"

This time he looks at her, the same look he'd given her on the beach when she'd thanked him for finding Aimee's killer. It had unsettled her then and it is REALLY unsettling her now. It's not a look she ever remembers seeing on him before. If she didn't know any better, she'd almost think it was… a famished look… the look of someone who sees the most wonderful thing in the world just beyond their reach.

"Richard… I'm sorry. No, I don't mean to kill us. I just can't stand another second of whatever is wrong between us. It's me, I know. I should have stood down when you first came onto the boat. I should have trusted you to do your job and catch Aimee's killer. I should… I should have trusted YOU. I'm sorry if you think I don't care about… about your feelings. I can say the meanest things sometimes."

"Yes, like me not having any friends."

She gulps, "Yes. That was VERY wrong of me."

"And me not having any feelings… or me never having been in love… or me…"

"YES!" she practically screams, "Yes! OK? I'm a bitch, I know it! Somehow you bring out the worst in me. My mouth runs away from my brain and sometimes I can't catch it. But… do you know WHY the worst is always so close to the surface?"

He frowns, shakes his head.

"Because of YOU! I never know about you! Sometimes I think I love you then sometimes I think I hate you! Why don't I know? How hard can it be? Either I'm in love or I'm not! I've never been in the dark like this. It's driving me crazy! It's time to put this whole unrequited love situation to rest, once and for all. Do you have feelings for me? Any at all?"

She grips the wheel in white-knuckled fury and fear. _Well, I've let the cat out of the bag now for sure! Time to face the music._ She looks over at him and waits for his anger.

END – part 1


	4. Chapter 4

**S2 E5 –Say It With Flowers #2**

Part 2 of 3

But his anger doesn't come. It is a soft question, "You really don't know?" He regards her for long moments then bends down and picks something off the floor at his feet. When his hand comes back into view, she sees it is her bouquet… snapped and crushed… ruined.

Somehow, this destroys all her control. She wails and takes them like a dead child into her hands, "Oh! Oh, Richard! Your lovely flowers! They're dead! I killed them! Me and my stupid temper!" and she bursts into fresh tears.

Somehow, her hysterical remorse galvanizes him where all her words did not. He catches her arm and pulls her across the seat and onto his lap. She huddles around the broken blooms and he huddles around her. He pats her back and reassures her, "Camille! They're just hot-house flowers. A dime a dozen… well, way more expensive than that but… they're just flowers. They were technically already dead. Nothing to get so upset over."

She presses the soft velvety petals to her face and mutters, "I'm not upset about the flowers! I'm upset about your feelings… through the flowers. You offered me something wonderful there on that beach and I took it without realizing, didn't I? I thought it was just flowers but it was much more than that."

He strokes her back and whispers, "Was it?"

She sits up a bit straighter, turns just enough to look into his face, so close now and unmistakable. He is giving her that same famished look. Yes, she is sure of it now. Hunger. He's hungry and he's too much of a gentleman to ask for what he needs. Maybe too much of a gentleman to even know what he needs… but she doesn't think so. He knows, all right. Maybe he just isn't sure of HER.

Well, time to put THAT to rest too!

She leans in just the barest fraction… not so far at all, really, the space between two people who need to share the SAME space… and brushes her lips whisper-soft over his. It feels so nice that she brushes her lips back again. His mouth is very soft, the skin smooth and silky. She brings up her hands and begins brushing the orchids against his cheek… against her own cheek. The petals feel like cool kisses, almost like another person is in the truck with them. Someone gentle and quiet, someone who wants to kiss and keep kissing until…

She slowly realizes that his arms are around her and he is breathing her name over and over… like a song… or a plea. She responds by singing his name back to him. He seems to like it as he shifts her to face him and now her arms are thrown around his neck and she straddles him with growing passion. The ruined flowers cascade down his shoulder and back, bits of petal tumbling onto the seat beside them as they embrace in total surrender.

When he pulls back, holds her off him, she moans in protest. She tries to reclaim him but he is stronger than she and this is a throw-down move she doesn't know. All of her training is to avoid capture. Nothing has taught her how to BE captured. For that, she needs privacy and maybe a bottle of wine. Seeing his eyes, she thinks the wine isn't necessary… but it would be awfully nice, n'est pas?

"Richard? Can we maybe stop at your place on our way back to the station? Just for a few minutes? Just for… just for…" She can't think how to say it without sounding like a total wanton.

"Just for a quick shag? Oh, yes, we could… but, Camille, I don't want a quick anything! I want… I want…" He looks so desperate, so eager, so conflicted.

She puts a finger to his lips and swallows her own hunger with a gasp, "I know. I want it too. And you're right! We don't want a quick anything. We want slow. We want all night. We want everything all at once and never ending!"

He nods against her shoulder, his hands loosening and sliding down her arms until he is holding her hands again. He painfully pushes her away, back across the seat, until she is behind the wheel once more.

They both take a deep breath and look out the front window. Fortunately, they are on a completely deserted stretch of road, not a soul in sight, no witnesses. Just as they both think, _Whew! Dodged a bullet there!..._ a group of young children on bikes rolls into view ahead of them.

The children all wave and smile at the big police people that watch them peddle past. _What funny looks!_ the kids scoff once they are past the big yellow truck, rolling their eyes to one another, G _rown-ups are so weird!_

END – part 2


	5. Chapter 5

**S2 E5 –Say It With Flowers #2**

Part 3 of 3

Camille gives Richard a shaky look, "Wow! Those kids almost got a crash course in human biology!"

Richard returns the look, "Forget the kids! I think I got the crash course. Emphasis on the 'crash'. Think the truck will start up again? You stalled it pretty harshly."

She is feeling pretty cheeky right now. She reaches for the ignition, "Let's see, shall we? How hard can it be? I just turn it on, throw it into 'overdrive', and step on the gas… kind of like you!"

He gives her SUCH a look, "Oh, like me, is it? Do you have your seatbelt fastened? No, you don't! Am I the only one who worries about safety? You don't want to have an accident, do you?"

"No worries. My so-called 'seatbelt' has been fastened for years so there's no fear of any 'accidents'." She waggles her eyebrows at him and whispers, "Unless you knock it loose, of course, which, if I recall correctly from a few moments ago, seems VERY likely!"

He colours up immediately but with the faintest of smiles, "Camille! Contain yourself."

She starts up the truck on the first try, smiles over at him, "Oh, I'll contain myself, all right. I have to, don't I? We're still on duty and there's a ton of work to get done. But… it WILL get done… and then you'll have no excuse. You'll have to go home. And I'll be following."

"Oh, going all 'stalker' on me, are you? I've never had a fan before." The smile is definitely there.

"Well, you've got one now. A serious one. Perhaps even an obsessive one. Think you can handle that?"

He smooths down his jacket, straightens his tie, "Oh, I'm pretty sure I can handle a lot. I'm just not sure I can handle YOU… not without serious practice." The smile is sure now.

As the truck pulls back onto the road and takes them on to the rest of their day, she laughs, "Don't you worry about THAT either! Obsessive is as obsessive does."

"Which makes no sense at all, thank you very much," he huffs, looking out his window. He crosses his arms, thinks for a bit then gives her a sideways look, "And, um, after work…if you are still of the same mind… and if I haven't come completely undone… on the way to my place, can we stop for some wine and perhaps some new orchids? I liked the feel of these ones against my face. I wonder how fresh ones would feel…" He is looking out his window once more. He is elsewhere right now.

She blinks slowly and swallows hard, waiting for him to finish that sentence. When he doesn't, she gulps in a deep breath. _Oh, dear_ , she thinks, _this is going to be the longest day of my LIFE!_ Glancing over at his dreamy silence, she calms herself with another thought, _But what a night I have to look forward to! It will be worth it. Everything! Everything we've been though… it will ALL be worth it._

He murmurs to her over his shoulder, "Somehow, I can hear EXACTLY what you're thinking. And, yes, I agree, it will be worth it. I will make sure of it. You have my solemn promise." Beneath her amazed glance to his serene face, he lays a hand on her thigh and she almost crashes again.

"Richard. I think we should call a taxi. I'm all over strange suddenly." Her hands are shaking.

"Pull over. I'll drive. I think you've earned a nice quiet ride." He is actually smirking. Very faintly… but a smirk none the less.

"I don't WANT a nice quiet ride! I want…"

"I know what you want but we have to return to the station and get through the day… so cool your jets, please." He pulls her to him and lifts her over and to the other side of him like she is a feather. He slides behind the wheel and she pants all the way back to Honoré, a hand over her eyes, trying to forget the power of his casual touch.

When he parks the truck and looks at her, she shoos him away, "Go. Go! I'll be up in a minute… or ten. My jets aren't exactly cool. Maybe I'll go for a short walk. I'll come in as soon as I'm calmer."

"All right." He gathers up his briefcase and opens the door but before he gets out he gives her one last lingering look, "You are my heart's desire, Camille. In case you haven't figured it out. In case I don't remember to say it… later."

She smiles with relief, "I know. I think I've known for a while now. I'm so glad we finally talked."

He gets out, shuts the door and says in through the open side window, "Oh, right, we talked. OK, you take some time to think things over and I'll see you inside." He turns away then turns back, "Soon?"

She nods, "Soon."

He leaves her then. She watches him climb the stairs. He looks the same, he sounds the same, but he isn't the same. He's hers now. Well, not exactly hers YET… but soon, very soon. A thought crosses her mind. She gets out of the truck and jogs into town.

Ten minutes later, she comes into the station calmly carrying a spray of dark pink orchids with big velvety saucer-like blooms, tiger stripes on the lips, chocolate spots on the sepals, and deep golden centres. These are not quiet flowers - not even tame flowers.

These are an orgy waiting to happen.

She sees his eyes flare and the green flashes vividly before he damps it down and returns to work. She arranges this floral party in a vase and puts it where they can both see it.

They spend the rest of the day imagining cool satiny botanical caresses in the most secret of places.

END


	6. Chapter 6

**S2 E5 I'm Your Key**

They stand in frozen tableau on his veranda.

His hands rest on the railing and he looks up at the half moon, lost for words once more. He's tried his best. He's tried again to tell her… to make her understand… but the words just won't come. He closes his eyes and places a hand over them with a deep despairing sigh drawn up from his very depths. He knows she is watching him… so calm… so cool. How can he reach her? How can he make her hear him?

She stands behind him, just inside the shadow thrown by the overhang. She sees him, just there at the railing, outlined in silver light. He looks ethereal, other worldly… and he IS. He's a decent man, an honest man, a trustworthy man… but also completely unpredictable… liable to say and do the maddest things without any warning. She knows that if only she can get inside his defenses… past his guard… she might start to understand him a bit… and then she'd have a chance to tell him… to reach him… to make him hear her.

Into this thunderous silence, from somewhere way down the beach, perhaps from one of the boats bobbing quietly on the ocean, a skirl of faint music is heard, there and gone, but they both hear it. His head comes up… doesn't he know this song? Her head turns… isn't this…?

Her eyes slip shut and she smiles sadly. Yes, she knows this song. It is etched on her heart most cruelly. It is Aimee's song. She'd been looking right into Aimee's eyes when she died and this song was still hanging in the air above them right there on the party boat dance floor as Aimee's eyes had faded, faded, gone blank. She stifles a sob and turns her face away. She doesn't need THIS on top of what she's trying to make happen here tonight.

Very softly, she hears a deeper voice pick up the words as the music wafts back into existence, "I'm your key – to set you free – you can come to me – anytime for comfort..." It is so sweet, the words, the sentiment. Why can't she make him understand that this is exactly what she wants, what she so desperately needs from him? She opens her eyes and rallies for one last attempt at capturing his heart… his elusive 'I'm-not-even-sure-he-has-one' heart… and freezes anew at what she sees.

He has turned. He is facing her and in the silver moonlight she can see his lips move in time to the words floating like a promise in the air between them. It is several seconds before she realizes with absolute shock and disbelief that he is whisper-singing the words and the deeper voice is his.

"Don't be shy – let me try – it's you I really want and not another..." His eyes are huge and silvery. Is it a trick of the light? Is he crying? He isn't smiling, that's for sure. He looks like he's facing a firing squad. Why does she frighten him so? It's not like she holds his future in the palm of her hand…

This thought booms in her head, sending waves deep inside that echo back… his future… his future… now that WOULD frighten him, wouldn't it? Yes. It surely would. Coldness settles over her skin. Now she is frozen inside as well as outside.

Something must be showing on her face because he slowly holds out a hand, timidly, almost reluctantly, and makes his next offering, "Baby, don't you cry – or get your little self uptight, you know…"

She suddenly knows, knows absolutely, that if she doesn't respond RIGHT NOW, he will stop. He will stop and never get up the nerve to try anything ever again. Has he been this subtle the whole time? Has he been wooing her all along and she just hadn't noticed? Could she be that oblivious? She's always thought HE was the oblivious one but, now, she's suddenly not so sure. She is…

She sees his hand waver in the still air between them. The music is gone again, only silence to be heard and his slightly unsteady breathing.

She knows that he is not going to sing the next stanza.

She has hesitated too long, overthought the whole situation, is STILL doing it, and he has lost heart.

His eyes drop, his fingers tremble, he begins to turn away. Just as his hand begins to follow, she lunges with all her strength and catches his fingertips just in the nick of time. A split second later and she would have caught empty air. Her chilled fingers meet his feverish ones and they regard one another, he in silver, she in darkness.

She gently slips her fingertips between his and draws his hand closer to intertwine fingers. Her hand is heating up… fast!

Into the uncertain empty space between them she whispers, "Baby, after tonight – baby, after tonight – won't you come to me - a little bit closer..."

He listens. He hears. He takes a step towards her. She is singing to him, soft gentle words that say everything he's tried so hard to tell her. His other hand comes up. Hers meets it. Now both their hands intertwine and they draw nearer, arms folding up to bring her hands to his mouth where he kisses them tenderly. When his forehead comes to rest on hers, they are both singing very low, for their ears alone. They sway to their music, slow dancing in a bubble of moonlight and high ringing euphoria.

With eyes closed, she hears ghostly music, hears Aimee's voice once more… but now Aimee is singing for her… and him. Fresh tears spring to her eyes but these are not tears of sorrow. Surely SOME good has to come from Life's awful tragedies? Aimee would be so happy to know that she had some part in this miraculous understanding that is happening right here right now.

When she opens her eyes again, he is watching the tears slip down her cheeks but he doesn't look upset. "Is that for me, you, us, or Aimee?" he whispers.

"All of the above… but mostly because you are in my arms at long last."

"Ah. In that case, shouldn't I be crying too?"

"Do you feel like crying?"

"No. I feel like dancing here in the moonlight with the most beautiful woman in the Caribbean. Oh, look, I'm already doing it. Fancy that." He is smiling now. "Um, this isn't a fluke, is it? Can I count on you being with me from now on? Forever?"

She lets this plea sink deep into her bones, sends thanks heavenward, and replies, "Here… or…"

"…or…?"

"I think it's high time you reconsider your living arrangements. Wouldn't a nice secluded house with air-conditioning and screens, on a quiet beach, with lots and lots of rooms waiting for little Poole's be a much better choice?"

Now it is his turn to send thanks heavenward and regain his voice, "Um, well, yes, it would. Please pardon my mentioning it but are you always this impetuous, I hope? "

"No, but I'm afraid I'll lose my nerve again. Sorry for proposing so suddenly like that but, since we're clearing the air, I thought I should lay all my cards on the table, full speed ahead and damn the torpedoes!"

"Um, Fidel tells me you cheat at cards, often and very well."

"Lie, cheat, steal, whatever! If I can get you into my life then the ends justify the means. Fidel will support me in this."

"Oh, I don't think I'll solicit his advice. We're quite able to settle this between us, aren't we?"

She steps in closer, pressing herself against him in a totally possessive way that thrills him, "Yes, between us. We're definitely settling this tonight, aren't we?"

"Camille, this is just a dance, nothing more. Preliminary moves. First steps. There's a lot we need to work out before we take…"

The veranda doors are closing behind him. He looks back in surprise, hadn't even noticed that they were slowly moving inside. He looks back to her. She is smiling and he knows that look. She has collared her perp and the perp is toast.

As the bed draws nearer and the music circles around them, he smiles too.

He loves toast.

END

**the UB40 version differs from Aimee's version. I like hers better and often wonder what her complete song would have been.**  
* * * * * * * * * *

 **After Tonight** \- UB40 version

I'm your key to set you free - you can come to me anytime for cover  
Don't play shy, let me try - It's you I really want and not another

Baby, don't you fight - Or get your little self uptight, you know  
Baby after tonight

You're alive but they could die - Won't you swim to me a little bit closer  
I can read what you mean - It's you oh baby you, I'm looking after

Baby, baby I said, I need your love - Baby, baby you're the one I'm dreaming of  
Baby, baby I said, I need your love - Baby, baby you're the one I'm dreaming of

Songwriters: David Foster / Mariah Carey / Diane Eve Warren

After Tonight lyrics © Peermusic Publishing, Universal Music Publishing Group, Realsongs

 **After Tonight** \- Aimee's partial version

I'm your key – to set you free – you can come to me – anytime for comfort

Don't be shy – let me try – it's you I really want and not another

Baby, don't you cry – or get your little self uptight, you know

Baby, after tonight – baby, after tonight –


	7. Chapter 7

**Whew – next to S2 E4 which I struggled mightily to simply understand (was it out of sequence or something?), this episode caused me the most pain. Easy to write about, though. BEM is currently working on a TV series tackling workplace bullying and I'm sure it will be intense and that I'll never get a chance to see it, being on the wrong side of the pond.**

 **S2 E6 – A Flicker in the Grass**

Part 1 of 10

At the Villa – front door

Officer Dwayne Myers watches 'the husband' shoulder his way through the front door and dusts himself off from the hard shove the man had given him as he'd bulled past. Dwayne isn't used to being man-handled… at least, not by men, and mutters, "Oh, I don' LIKE that man." After straightening his hat and assuming the thumbs-in-belt posture that best advertises his place in the world, he suddenly grins and thinks, _Just wait until Mr. High-and-Mighty runs into the CHIEF! He won't be so cocky THEN._ He resumes guarding the door and bends a hopeful ear for the coming blast that he is sure 'the husband' is going to earn most righteously!

Inside the Villa – crime scene

Camille's quiet amusement at Richard's unexpected use of déjà vu in a coherent sentence that is also pertinent to the case is rudely interrupted by the abrupt and somehow overly robust entrance of a man.

First of all, she is amazed the man got past Dwayne! Then she is curious as to why Dwayne isn't on this guy's tail and trying to explain to 'the Chief' how this interruption happened. THEN she is insulted by the man's total refusal to acknowledge her existence or the dead body at her feet. And… then… she is gob-smacked by the man's reaction to seeing Richard… and Richard's reaction to seeing the man.

As the two men stare at each another, Camille gets a very bad feeling. When the man whirls away and storms out onto the deck to light a cigarette and begins pacing, Camille turns back to Richard for help. "Who IS that man?" she asks, knowing she probably isn't going to like the answer.

Richard comes back to life and nods his head towards the deck, "THAT… is Doug Anderson... the bane of my existence, pure and simple. Oh, what did I ever do to deserve him TWICE in my life?"

"Bane? Him? I thought I was your bane," she replies, hoping to lessen the tension.

Richard gives a despairing look, "Camille, no matter HOW French you get, how fractious, how infuriating… you are NOTHING compared to that gentleman… and I use the term loosely. This case just blew out of the mundane and into the troposphere."

She lets that slide... she can look up science talk later. Right now she needs to calm him down. As he squares his shoulders and prepares to go out onto the deck to begin his job, she tells him, "He's just seen a dead body and is justifiably upset. Whatever history you two have together, he needs your help now. You're the D.I. He's a victim. Be calm and carry on… or whatever that British saying is, OK?"

Richard takes a deep breath and nods. As he passes her he mutters, "Although, a more apt saying might be… 'Be calm as you can manage while being mercilessly flayed by scorn."

Camille watches him march out to confront the pacing man, ducks out of sight, and eavesdrops as hard as she can, which, considering some of the antics that have gone down in the station over the past year, is VERY hard indeed. In fact, she's an expert and hears every word… much to her disbelief.

On the Villa deck

Camille learns a new saying in the next few minutes… 'Be calm and don't push that f***ing pig over the rail and watch his body break to pieces on the rocks below'! It is all she can do to stand in one spot and listen to the awful scene that takes place outside. Finally she just HAS to step in, if only to make the man stop, but her presence doesn't seem to make the slightest bit of difference. _What gall_ , she thinks! H _e's either totally oblivious to anyone other than his chosen target… OR… he's used to abusing Richard in full sight of others without resistance._ She has a horrible suspicion that it is the latter.

Camille sees 'the sister' come rushing up and suddenly Doug is the comforting nurturing brother-in-law… a snap-change in character that takes Camille's breath away. She looks to Richard. He doesn't seem surprised at all. He looks like he's seeing something he's seen a million times before. She has a second horrible suspicion that he HAS seen all this before… and he's always been the target. _Oh, Richard_ , she thinks, _is this what your life was like before you came to us? How did you function? How did you manage?_ She suddenly resolves to forgive him every little eccentricity he ever shows again.

She waits until Anderson and 'the sister' have gone inside before turning to Richard and saying, "Dickie Boy?" in a gentle teasing tone, trying to relieve his tension. Wrong tactic!

Richard whirls on her and says low and fast, "Don't EVER call me that! Never. Do you hear me?" He gives her a cold look then backs down at her shocked face, "Sorry. Just... don't. All right?"

She hisses indignantly, "I would NEVER call you that! I don't call you 'Chief' so why would I call you something you obviously hate so much… and with good reason? I would never disparage you like…" she hooks a thumb over her shoulder, takes a step closer and says sotto voce, "OK, just a snap judgement here but... creep! Am I close?"

He nods and mutters, "Closer than you know. Stay off his radar, Camille. You do NOT want his notice."

She scoffs breathily, "Want it? He's looked right through me twice now. I don't exist in his world. I'm just the lowly Sergeant fit only for fetching tea and emptying the trash bin!"

This is a better tactic as it earns a tiny smile that she welcomes with relief as he replies quietly, "Anyone who can overlook you is either dead or a moron… and he would have you fetching his fags and his booze. As for my earlier outburst… sorry… bad memories... you understand? There are many reasons why I no longer wish to return to England and HE'S a big one!"

Her nerves jump… _you no longer wish…? Oh, finally! Yes, and thank you, Erzuli!_ Her little happy dance dies unborn when she sees his pale aspect and averted eyes, hears his slightly quickened breathing. She sobers immediately, "Oh, yes, I understand. Perfectly. Maybe more than you'd like me to."

He flicks his eyes to hers then away. He nods. _Yes, you probably do._ Aloud he says, "Come on, we should speak to the sister next. I'll need your clever skills at reading body English."

Just before he passes her to go back into the villa, she lays a quick hand on his arm and whispers fiercely, "You are Chief of Police Detective Inspector Richard Poole. You have a PERFECT solve record. You have every right to be proud and confident… here… with us. Don't let a common street thug spoil that!"

He gives a quick nod and feels bucked up quite a bit. He will not be facing Anderson alone. He is going into the fray with his trusted Sergeant at his back… and that is no mean accomplishment.

END – part 1


	8. Chapter 8

Part 2 of 10

The Villa

Camille picks up on Richard's suspicion of Anderson's involvement in the murder almost immediately. After Janice has gone off to console Doug, she leans in and whispers, "Be careful, don't let your past feelings colour your thinking now. He's just the sort of person to take advantage of that and get you into trouble!"

He pierces her with a look, "I'm aware, Sergeant."

She swallows, feeling unjustly put in her place but remembers her resolve to allow him his quirks. She wonders if it will hurt like this each time.

The Villa driveway

Camille overhears Anderson's further abuse of Richard as she comes out the front door to stand beside Richard in the driveway. They watch the van drive away in very uncompanionable silence.

She can't contain herself! "Who does he think he IS?" she sneers.

Quietly, Richard says, "He thinks he's Doug Anderson…" His shoulders slump, "… and I'm Dickie Boy."

"Well, he isn't!" She rounds on him vehemently, "And YOU'RE not! Remember that!"

He turns a slightly revived curious eye onto her, "Oh, really? Who am I then?"

She sees him unbend just the littlest bit. She decides to push her luck. She puts a hand on his shoulder and he looks surprised, "You are the Chief of Police for this whole island… and you have a team that believes in you." Here he smiles hesitantly. She decides to go for broke. "And… you have one more weapon in your arsenal that he doesn't know about. I sometimes wonder if you even know it's there."

He is looking down the road, deep in thought, "Oh? And what's that? My big brain you tease me about all the time?"

"Well, yes… but no. I'm guessing by your response that you ARE unaware. How English of you." She leans in and says, "You have me. Not just as your sergeant. If you want."

By the time his surprised eyes jerk back to her, she is striding towards the villa. It takes him a few moments to catch her up at the front door. They go inside to continue their jobs… her wondering if he understood what had just been almost said aloud… him wondering if he understood anything at all.

Inside the Villa, a storm brews

After Dwayne is sent off to interview Maman about Anderson's whereabouts during the crucial time of the murder, Camille finally confronts Richard about his unwarranted suspicions. They have a very heated argument that ends with her exit line, "NONE of that makes him a murderer!"

She marches away, steaming, and thinks, _Maybe not a murderer but DEFINITELY a thorn in your side… and now mine too! I need to keep you focused and on track. For the first time since I've known you, I think you're acting unprofessional… and THAT can't be good!_ She is getting more worried by the minute. Richard Poole… unprofessional? Was there really such a creature? And… if there was… would she like him? Would she like him at all?

Had she looked over her shoulder, one of her questions would have been answered. He is in total shadow, back lit by a grey stormy sky… the perfect image of a man beset by demons. Her heart would have burst… so… just as well. Instead she waits more or less patiently in the truck and when he finally comes out and locks up the site, they keep an angry silence all the way back to the station.

The station parking lot

As he opens his door, she touches his elbow and he freezes, "I meant what I said, Richard… about us… but something tells me now is not the time to explore the possibilities. This man worries me. He means you harm, I feel it in my bones. We can't jeopardize our professional lives right now. You'd better make DOUBLY sure to cross all your t's on this one! Don't let your bias blind you."

He turns to look at her, his eyes very solemn and careful.

She nods up the hill to the police station, "Until this case is wrapped up, we have to be the Inspector and the Sergeant, but I want you to know that you're not alone anymore. It's not just me but Dwayne and Fidel too… and the Commissioner… and every single person in town, really. We're all on your side. Can you remember that? Can you use it to shield yourself against your old pain?"

He seems to be seeing her for the first time, "My old pain? My old pain means nothing if I have you at my side. Professionally as well as…" He colours slightly but forges on, "… as my… not-Sergeant."

She smiles. That's a huge admission for him and she appreciates his honesty, as oblique as it is. "All right, let's leave it there, shall we? Once this case is over, we can discuss it in further detail. Just remember; me, secret weapon, back pocket."

"Right. We'll discuss it later… back pocket… right." With that, he swings out of the truck and climbs the stairs with quite a bit of bounce in his step.

Following him, she hopes he can keep his optimism. Something tells her this is going to be a right royal shit-show of a case... and her bones are seldom wrong.

In the station

Camille and Richard enjoy a brief refreshing difference of opinion over whether Richard is allowed to use intuition or not.

 _Another fight_ , thinks Fidel, then he detects a note of relish, a first in his opinion. _If I didn't know any better, I'd almost think they were flirting!_ He snorts to himself, _Yeah, and pigs will fly!_

Camille is pleased when she pins Richard good and proper with the devastating 'goose and duck' comment but he wriggles out in the trice with 'gander' and she frowns anew. _Ooo, him and his words! Doesn't he ever admit defeat? He would be a super-star on a debating team_ (not knowing of his heady days at Uni when he was known as 'The Closer').

Fidel waits for a lull in the noise to add, "Catherine confirms Anderson was in her bar during the critical time and…" He glances quickly at Camille then back to his boss, "… and she's SURE he did it. Somehow." His grin is unnoticed in the following uproar.

The Chief is jubilant and whirls on Camille, "A-HA! Even your mother knows the truth!"

Camille is indignant, "Oh, NOW you listen to her? No more eye-rolling and snide English down-puts?"

"Put-downs…" he mutters as he turns back to the white board.

She flings her hands up into the air, "Oh, WHAT ever!"

Fidel's next comment stops them both in their tracks. Within moments they are rushing out to Eldred's Convenient Store hot upon the trail of further nails to add to Doug Anderson's coffin.

End – part 2


	9. Chapter 9

Part 3 of 10

Eldred's Convenience Store

They both stare at the CCTV image frozen on the screen.

She says over her shoulder, "How did you even SEE that?" She is very aware of his hand on her seat back. She shakes her head, _Don't think about that now_ , she tells herself.

His reply is low and very sure, "Maybe some of your skills are finally rubbing off on me..." His brief touch on her shoulder thrills her "… or maybe I've seen that exact same look too many times back in my old life. Yeah, I know that look. Smug git… so sure he's in the clear and YOU are in the shite."

Camille gives him a startled look, his momentary caress forgotten. _He hardly EVER swears! This case is unhinging him!_ As she studies his intent face, she wonders if maybe she will finally get a glimpse inside Richard Poole… and if she REALLY wants to see what's there?

The station

When Camille relays Richard's orders to guard the villa to Fidel and Dwayne, she has a hard time keeping her silence in the face of their scorn. She secretly agrees with the officers but has to back Richard in her capacity of his Sergeant. _Oh_ , she fumes, _maybe starting a personal relationship with the boss really isn't such a good idea? How do I keep a professional distance from someone I'm…_

Here her imagination takes over and she stands serenely as the men clatter off, images of great import dancing in her head. She comes too, shakes herself and thinks, _Stop it! He's my superior officer and of course I must support him in any way…_ then halts again as more images roar into her head.

She is still standing there like a gormless thing when Richard mounts the steps behind her and jolts her out of a blush-inducing reverie. He doesn't notice and seems so down that she immediately offers to fetch them lunch from La Kaz. He is so distracted that he agrees and she is gone in a flash and so isn't there to guard the door when the enemy arrives.

At Richard's desk

When she returns, she hears the most outrageous diatribe she's ever had the bad luck to listen to. She slips into the station and catches Richard's eye just before Anderson turns away and lumbers out of the station, ignoring her yet again. She rushes over to Richard's desk as he folds up into his chair like a worn-out dishrag.

"Are you all right?" she whispers.

He passes a shaky hand over his brow and rubs his eyes. "That almost killed me," he murmurs.

She stoops to place a hand on his shoulder, "Don't let him get to you. None of what he said is true!"

He looks at her for a moment then chuffs a low laugh, "I don't mean that. I mean the insult he gave me in playing the 'we're all coppers in this together' card. How dare he include me in the same cess pool as himself! The nerve! It made me all the more determined to dig in my heels. Did you hear him asking all those leading questions? What a moron! As if he can distract me with invective!"

She scoffs, "Does he REALLY think he's a match for you? Can he possibly be that stupid?"

Richard nods, "Yes, he does, and yes, he is. If this wasn't so personally painful for me, I'd enjoy cutting him to pieces. Except, I can't jeopardize the case and it would be a waste of my time, really. Let's just jug him up and have done with it."

"So you think he's satisfied that you're doing what he wants?"

"Yes. I misdirected him and he accepted it as a matter of course. He's still suspect number one and he's still sure that I am totally cowed."

"You? Cowed? No, no, no, your job is to bull ahead and follow whatever facts you find." She holds up a stern finger, "FACTS! Not hunches or long-held revenge fantasies. Facts!"

He sighs, "Your faith in me is SO appreciated."

She sees his tired dejected aspect and steps behind him to drop her hands onto his tense shoulders which tense up even more in surprise. She begins gentle massaging motions and leans down to murmur, "Oh, I have faith in you, never fear, and, right now, I wish Douglas Anderson was off our island so I could indulge in some long-held fantasies of my own."

He smiles once more and rolls his head, "Really, Sergeant! Keep your mind on the case…" He leans forward just a bit "… and your hands a bit lower and to the right, if you wouldn't mind."

She whispers in his ear, "Oh, I don't mind at ALL… sir."

He turns into her whisper and whispers back, "You said we'd discuss this later."

She whiskers her lips across the back of his neck, skimming his shirt collar, to whisper into his other ear as he slowly rotates his head to lean into her voice, "Yes, but no one can see us from the Public Entrance and we'll hear anyone approaching the other doors so there's ample warning if any one comes in."

Her hands are working lower and he thrills with unaccustomed pleasure, "Um… oh… yes, right there is wonderful… but Camille… we'd hear almost anyone except the Commissioner." Her hands stop. He continues in a dreamy tone, "I'm almost sure the man teleports or hovers or something…"

She straightens up, gives him a final pat on the shoulders before going back to her desk, "Yes, well, perhaps you're right. As I said earlier, we'll discuss this later."

He watches her go with sudden frustration. "Oh, good, super," he mutters.

End – part 3


	10. Chapter 10

Part 4 of 10

The station, front steps

As Richard and Camille go down the front steps, she speaks up, "That wasn't very nice."

"What? Oh, you mean with Dwayne? Well, if I am to be sacrificed on the altar of your plans for me then why should Dwayne be spared? It's time he settled down with one good woman, made a home for himself, maybe even start a family. It's not too late for him."

Camille stops at the truck, opens her door, "Uh-hmm. And remember what I said earlier?" He opens his door, stops, and they regard each other through the truck's cab. He arches his eyebrows. She lowers hers and purrs, "What's good for the goose…"

He waits a beat then swallows, "Ah, right… what's good for the goose is good for the duck. Got it. Well, perhaps I did him a disservice back there?" He turns to look back up at the station and muses, "A man deserves his freedom, after all…"

She slaps the hood of the Jeep with a mighty thwack, "Non! A woman deserves her man… once she's found him!" She flashes him a warning look.

He takes the shot directly amid-ships and stutters, "So… freedom?"

"Forget it, my goose."

He colours slightly and nods sagely as if he actually understands anything, "Ah."

They climb in and drive off to interview Janice once more, planning their next move.

The Villa driveway

As they pull away, Richard sees Anderson's reflection in the rear view mirror and gives a quiet laugh, "I knew it! He was eavesdropping and heard it all. Good work, Camille." He sits back with satisfaction, "What a cad! He knows Janice is now a prime suspect but I bet he doesn't come round to defend her."

Camille frowns, "Yes, well, I stand by my statement, staged or not. All the facts point AWAY from Doug Anderson."

He gives her a look, "Maybe it SEEMS that way to you but…"

She returns his look, "But?"

He looks out his window and mutters, "I STILL know he did it… somehow… I just have to find out how."

Camille places a hand on his arm and speaks low and fast, "You saved me from making a bad mistake professionally by preventing me from arresting Eloise Morrison for Aimee's murder. You were totally right and I was totally wrong. You saved me. Now I'm saving YOU. You have to trust me now like I trusted you then. You must hear me. Doug Anderson did NOT kill his wife."

The rest of the drive is conducted in a hot challenging silence but she does not relent. Nor does he.

Stale mate.

The station intervention

They are all staring at him, determined and focused and also… correct. They are absolutely correct and he is in the wrong! His eyes tick back and forth as he slots the facts into place and a totally different picture creates itself… solid and firm and irrefutable.

Doug Anderson could NOT have killed his wife.

No matter how he twists and turns and bends the truth, Richard Poole HAS to accept it. His team is right and he is wrong.

Doug Anderson did NOT kill his wife.

Dick Poole of the Met and one-time punching bag for Doug Anderson snaps sharply into focus as D. I. Richard Poole, Police Chief of the Saint-Marie Police Force, and his mind roars into over-drive; cool, logical, orderly over-drive.

The team all slump in relief then snap to attention. Their eyes sharpen and they hear what they've been needing to hear… the concise tone of their superior officer barking out new orders that everyone jumps to obey. He's on fire and now so are they. He's back! The Chief is back and they are SO relieved!

Before she turns away, Camille leans down and whispers, "That was the most sincere apology I've ever heard anyone give… even though it must have hurt like hell. You're a big man, Richard, to admit you were wrong." He quirks a brow, says nothing. She gives him a slow look, shrugs, and goes to her desk.

His eyes follow her but he still says nothing.

She DID say they'd discuss things later.

END – part 4


	11. Chapter 11

Part 5 of 10

Station veranda

As Richard tests the sunscreen, Dwayne comes out onto the veranda and sits down beside him.

Richard opens one eye then closes it again. Dwayne leans forward and speaks soft and low, a bit hesitantly, "Camille's been fillin' us in on what's been goin' on, Chief. Dont' be mad at her. She just wants us to know what's what. You understand?"

The Chief sighs, "Yes, I understand. I had hoped my past would never rear its ugly head again but…"

Dwayne snorts, "Oh, it's ugly, all right! It's like a soap opera or a really bad novel. How do people get away with this sorta behaviour? I don't know if I could keep my cool with someone attackin' me alla time. You're very good at it, you know… an' he still doesn't suspect?"

"I believe not… although I'm going to bite right through my tongue if he upbraids me once more."

"Ah, Chief, we got a sayin' down here… 'If talk worth shillin', silence worth pound'. He's tryin' to lead you astray and you are keepin' quiet and followin' the scent. He's no match for you. His little shillin' can't trump your pound." Dwayne snorts a laugh, "Hell! His pound can't trump your shillin'!"

Richard smiles, "Thanks for that, Dwayne. I will endeavour to remember it."

Dwayne stands, "You do that, Chief. Now, me and Fidel are goin' into town to track down some of those fine ideas you came up with. Be back soon."

Richard nods and watches his officers leave. Camille comes out and tells him she is going into the back building to dig through some old files for information about Ronnie Stewart and she'll just be a moment. He nods again and is just relaxing into the quiet of the afternoon when an insolent little snapping noise causes him to open his eyes and he is once again under attack.

Yes, under attack but no longer unprepared and weaponless.

 _ **If talk worth shillin', silence worth pound.**_

This truism rings in Richard's head as he takes Anderson's abuse there on the veranda. If he retaliates in any way, he might tip his hand. He might put the wind up Dougie and Dougie might slip the noose. So… for the sake of his case… and for the sake of seeing this swine behind bars where he truly belongs… Richard clamps his teeth on his tongue and takes it.

Yeah, he keeps quiet and takes it like a man! How many times has he practiced that hated maxim? Too many times… and most of those times were at this man's hands. Only the faith and support of his team plus the certain knowledge that Dougie is somehow behind the murder keeps Richard silent.

Richard clenches his fists behind his back where Anderson can't see. The man is a moron and a despicable human being but he is clever in his way. Richard cannot give the slightest hint of the careful case he is trying to set up... a trap to catch a pig.

But Anderson's cheap shot about never being married or even having a girlfriend… that almost made Richard lose control. _How DARE he?! It's one thing to disparage my intelligence and ridicule me professionally, but to sneer at my MANHOOD? What's next? Sexual preference? Bestiality?_ _Nothing this man says would surprise me anymore. Truly! Nothing!_

Richard takes a shuddery breath and thanks his lucky stars that he and Camille had had their little talk earlier. _Dougie doesn't know about Camille, does he? No, and he mustn't! Anything and everything would be ammunition in this man's hands… but afterwards… oh, yes, afterwards… when Dougie is jugged up good and proper… won't it just KILL him to find out about Dickie Boy and Camille? It is just too delicious!_ These thoughts help Richard endure the abuse with a firmer resolve.

And when Dougie finally runs out of breath or patience and storms off, Camille is there! Richard starts when he sees her, _Oh, Christ! Did she hear everything? Please, if there IS a God and if he is INDEED merciful…_ but, no, he can tell by her face that she heard enough. Maybe enough to ruin his burgeoning chances with her? After all, what woman as feisty as this wants a punching-bag for a mate?

He hates his life.

Into the hot embarrassed silence between them she says, "He's not a very nice man, is he?"

He wills his body to cool down, breathe, relax from the death-tight full-body clench that he'd suffered during the entire confrontation. "No, he isn't," he manages and tries to pass her to go into the office.

Her firm grip on his forearm forestalls him. As much as he does NOT want her to see his eyes, he raises them in silent question. He knows instantly that she sees his anguish and impotent anger – he sees it and is amazed at what follows.

Her eyes flash and her mouth is a slash of hatred. He's sure her hair is standing on end too. He checks and her pupils are dilated and her skin is pale. This is fight or flight and, if he has to guess and, knowing this is Camille, she chooses to FIGHT! "We have to talk soon as the men get back. No argument."

"Camille, please! I've had enough bullying for one day…"

Her hand cinches around his wrist and the strength of her grip surprises him, "Call me a bully if you want but I'm NOTHING compared to what I just witnessed! How DARE he? That man deserves a bullet right between the eyes! And you're perfectly right… if he isn't guilty, he SHOULD be!"

They go inside and wait for Dwayne and Fidel's return. It is very hard to meet his officers' eyes but their outrage and umbrage is plain to see as Camille relates the latest personal assault almost word for word. They are all on HIS side! He is suddenly so grateful to this island and its people.

Oh, he is NEVER going back!

END – part 5


	12. Chapter 12

Part 6 of 10

Dwayne listens silently then starts things off with a bang by growling low in his throat, "Ooooh, 'Hog know where to rub him skin' and that's a fact!" At Richard's blank look he translates, "A bully knows who he can abuse… or THINKS he knows. He doesn't know YOU, Chief, and that's another fact!"

Camille narrows her eyes and mulls something over before murmuring, "There was something in his eyes, Richard, back at the crime scene when he first saw you. It was just a flash but it was definitely there. Did you see it?"

Richard shakes his head, "No. I didn't notice anything. I was frozen with bad memories. It all came boiling up... the whole Croydon nightmare. What did you see?"

"Fear. When he saw you… a bright flash of fear. You scare him. Why is that?"

"I honestly don't think so, Camille. He's never hidden his disdain for me. Everyone back in Croydon always took his side. Well, almost everyone."

"No, I'm certain. You're a threat. Think about it and keep it uppermost in your mind. You have a power that he fears. You just have to figure out what it is." Here she falls silent, thinking hard.

Into the silence, Fidel's voice is full of quiet confidence, "I know what it is." He turns his intense gaze on his Chief with utter surety, "He's afraid of your mind. All these insults, all this bitter venom… he's trying to distract you… trying to throw you off the scent. Follow the facts, Chief! You're never wrong and we have faith in you." He turns to Camille and Dwayne, "Don't we?"

Richard is strangely moved, he is the focus of their sharp gaze and they are nodding!

Now Dwayne adds, "We have another sayin' here on the island, Chief. 'Magwa cow a bull mumma'. Just remember that!"

"I BEG your pardon?!" Richard is surprised into a laugh.

They all join in, pleased to be a united front once more.

Fidel translates with satisfaction, "It means you might appear weak but you're not! Not in yourself and not with us! You said it just last week, remember? We're the best team ever! Team Honoré!"

Richard straightens up, "Right, and I meant it. I'm here for you and…"

"And we're here for YOU!" Dwayne barks. "We're in this together. You're not alone. Not anymore."

Richard flashes Camille a candid look before nodding to his indignant and loyal companions, "Well, thank you. I will endeavour to remember that when…"

"When hog squeal, hey?" Dwayne grins.

"Yes, when hog squeal," Richard nods, feeling quite a bit better now.

Dwayne leans in, Fidel right behind him, "Be the lion, Chief. Be the silent flicker in the grass that spells doom and death to anyone foolish enough to ignore you." Fidel hooks his hands into claws and nods.

Richard mulls this over, "All right, I'll try, but I'm not used to thinking of myself as a large dangerous beast. I'm not sure that really describes me… "

Dwayne smiles nasty, "Just think of him with his little piggy nose, snootin' and rootin' around, makin' noise and not watchin' the grass. That's when you'll get him, when he's not watchin' out!"

Camille smiles secretly, "A large dangerous beast, I like that. I think I'll go back to my desk and think about that for the rest of the day."

The men watch her saunter away, Richard mystified, Dwayne amused, and Fidel proven correct in his own thoughts. Dwayne turns back to his boss, leans down, whispers, "We men have another sayin'. Want to hear it?"

Richard just looks at him, at a total loss, "Will it help me decipher what she just said?"

"Prob'ly not, you bein' you and all, but it's this… 'When lion he roar, she do answer'. Remember that too, Chief."

"Remember it? I can't even parse it! What does it mean?" Richard looks to Fidel who simply winks.

Dwayne taps the side of his nose, "All in good time, Chief. You'll figure it out. You always do. We can set our watches by you. Good luck and good huntin'."

As the men return to their desks, Richard shakes his head, _Lunatics, all of us, myself included. Still,_ he sighs, _there's solace in being part of a crowd._ He smiles, _Even a mad crowd._ He returns to his desk with a lighter heart.

END – part 6


	13. Chapter 13

Part 7 of 10

During coffee break

Later that same day, everyone but Richard is in the breakroom for a war council. Richard tries VERY hard not to listen but it is SO gratifying to hear such rough language being directed towards Dougie and not himself. Fidel especially seems to take everything right to heart. The young man's loyalty knows no bounds, it appears. Richard isn't surprised therefore when Fidel sidles up to his right side a bit later and whispers, 'Hog can hide neath sheep wool, him grunt betray'."

Richard gives him a bland look, "Is that a fact, Fidel? And what in God's name does THAT mean?"

Fidel smiles thinly, "It means a bully can't fool everyone… and THIS one doesn't fool ANYone. Even the Commissioner has heard about it. He's mad enough to chew nails. Magwa cow…"

"… a bull mumma… yes, yes, yes, so I've been told. Am I the cow or the mumma?"

"Anderson thinks you're the cow. We know different." At Richard's frown, Fidel clarifies, "You're the bull, sir, definitely. And if you're too polite to trample that hog, we'll do it for you. We can make him very sorry he ever came to our island."

"Yes, he will be sorry. I intend to make VERY sure of that!"

Fidel checks over both shoulders before leaning in and whispering, "Maybe he'll have an accident. You know, disappear. Could happen. "

Richard waits a beat, swallows, and lays a hand on Fidel's arm, "It will NEVER come to that... not on MY watch… but thanks for the sentiment. It means a lot. Dwayne advised me to be the lion that catches the hog and that's what I'll do. I think I'm beginning to believe in my own press, becoming a legend in my own mind." He laughs a bit self-consciously.

"Well, if Dwayne says you're the lion then you're the lion. However, don't forget about the jackals. They're always circling about, waiting their chance. If you need them, just whistle."

"I'll do that. Now, enough zoology, let's get down to forensics."

They go over the latest reports. The clues fly in, the case opens up, and the pursuit is on. Richard's gentle jab at Camille about having a 'feeling' over Janice's genuine sorrow of June's death feels almost lighthearted. Camille makes a vow to discuss this 'later' with him too. Together, their tweaking of Dwayne about Estelle gives them both a happy moment. Even amongst death and murder, a little sunshine must fall. Surely the gods can't begrudge them that?

Maybe not, but it doesn't explain why a poor innocent little moggy has to die of poisoned fish!

Once more on the Station veranda

As Richard tests the second bottle of sunscreen, he finally opens up to Camille about his treatment at Dougie's hands all those years ago in Croydon.

Now it is Camille's turn to bite her tongue and swallow her rage, _Richard's a big boy, he doesn't need a mother! What he DOES need_ … but her thoughts are derailed by his sad litany of down-puts. _No, put-downs_ , she corrects herself, pleased that she remembers the proper term.

She comforts him, "You're a lot of things but you're not a fool; picky, stubborn, impatient…" She enjoys winding him up, it takes his mind off his sorrows, "… infuriating, irritating, difficult…"

Just as he is getting hot under the collar, she lays a cool hand on his and says, "… but that's when you're at work. I am VERY interested in learning what you're like when you're at home, off the clock, and maybe out of your clothes…"

Into the resulting shocked hush that crashes down all around them, she thinks she can hear his heart speed up but the moment is preempted by his sudden bloodhoundedness as he sees both his feet have turned red. Any chance of getting back onto the fascinating topic of his clothes or lack thereof is further ruined by Fidel's surprise announcement of a totally unexpected fingerprint found where it didn't belong. She swallows her frustration and goes back into Sergeant-mode, _Later... later, we'll talk later._

Several places at once, it seems

He pulls the next clues right out of thin air… somehow… like he always does… all the time… only now Lily Shaw and Ronnie Stuart and Will Teague are somehow involved! What is going on? Oh, yes, and a dead cat! Let's not overlook THAT little part of the puzzle.

Dear god.

Big Reveal at the Villa

When he nails Ronnie Stuart for June Anderson's murder, it isn't at all satisfying. Yes, they got him dead to rights but the team can't help feeling disappointed. They REALLY wanted it to be Dougie!

Oh, Life can be SO unfair! What's the point of being a cop if you can't bang up the really bad ones?

Camille does have one surprise in store for her. It is when Richard elegantly trips his tongue around the word 'allamandin'. Her heart flutters hard for a moment or two before she realizes why… then it flutters long and hard for quite a while after that.

Oh, she can't WAIT for their little talk. _SOON, please Erzuli, make it SOON! Before I explode!_

End – part 7


	14. Chapter 14

Part 8 of 10

Once more at the Station

No one sees the realization hit Richard. Richard himself is amazed at how calm he is when it goes off in his head like a bomb. _Yes! Oh, sweet cool logic, yes._ Dwayne stands there and holds Richard's salvation in his hand and doesn't even know it. It isn't until Richard calls everyone to his desk and takes them into his confidence that the victory dances break out all over the room.

Richard watches them celebrate and smiles. _Oh, yes, it is very good to be the lion._ Fidel and Dwayne's slaps on the back are gratifying but it is Camille's fierce and exultant kiss on the lips that empties the room and causes the other officers to find something VERY interesting out on the veranda.

When she finally comes up for air, Richard can only look up at her in totally smitten wonder as she drawls, "Well! THAT was nice. I only wish all our cases ended so boisterously." She leaves him then and joins the others on the veranda where there is quite a bit of laughter and congratulations.

Richard gets his blush under control and resolutely returns to the case. After all, 'later' means 'LATER'!

 _Just one more tiny detail to take care of and, oh, I am SO going to enjoy this!_ He calls everyone back in and now the serious planning begins. As they listen, they are a bit agog at the Chief's deviousness. They glance at one another, a bit alarmed, and vow to stay on this man's good side no matter WHAT it takes!

They rehearse several times then stage the scene and settle down to wait.

The Final Reveal

It is sweet bliss. Sheer sweet bliss.

Dwayne feels a bit of a fool reciting his line 'the local police force would never be a match for you.' He knows in his heart of hearts that without the Chief Dougie WOULD have gotten away with it. Then he puffs up with pride when the Chief replies 'But we were.' Such a quiet reply but it includes ALL of them. The team. The team together has caught Dougie Anderson. Dwayne has often felt 'proud to serve' but THIS collar feels the absolute best of all! He glows with satisfaction.

For his part, Fidel is already aglow with satisfaction. When he halts Dougie's escape by playing the recording, he savours the look in Dougie's eyes as the man hears the fatal condemnation come out of his own mouth. _That's YOU taken care of, you swine_ , he thinks. _Oh, yeah, some cases are SO much better!_

As for Camille, she practically gives off sparks when she sees Richard's tiny sideways glance and knows he wants her to finish his sentence, that he trusts her to understand him that well. As she growls, "Bang to rights," she shivers to throw this bully's words back into his face.

As for Richard, his moment of self-realization comes with the simple saying of his own name. His whole body thrums as he stands toe to toe with his worst nightmare and watches the man turn away in frustrated defeat. Dickie Boy is no more. Long live Richard Poole.

That's when Richard looks at Camille and that's when Camille gets her last SMALL thrill of the day.

One last detail

Dwayne can't help turning the perp towards the Chief in the cell area doorway and saying, "Hog, peep Lion. Lion, say tah Hog."

As Dwayne and Fidel man-handle Anderson none too nicely into custody, the man rasps over his shoulder, "Poole! What did he say? What does it mean?"

Detective Inspector Poole of the Honoré Police Force, soon to be many other things in his life, just shakes his head, "Dunno. Lion na talk Hog. Him just roar, all jump." Then he smiles to his men and turns to his woman, "Or… so I'm told."

End – part 8


	15. Chapter 15

Part 9 of 10

La Kaz

After all the cheering and toasting is over, and Catherine regales everyone of her acuity of human nature and being RIGHT about Doug Anderson all along, Richard turns an amused eye onto his team.

Camille reads him aright and sits back abruptly, arms crossed with an ' _Oh, no, you don't_ ' look in her eye.

Richard sees this and quirks an eyebrow that conveys more information than she's ever seen before, most of it along the lines of ' _Oh, yes, I do_ ' and ' _You WILL apologize but not here_ ' and ' _Your turn is coming, Missy_ '. For now she is just as frozen as the two men who suddenly realize they have some serious grovelling to do.

Fidel leaps in first and Dwayne is right behind him. They apologize for ever doubting him… again... and it wasn't really DOUBT… not really… they'd just been doing their jobs and considering all avenues of investigation… being the good coppers that he has molded them into… you know? What a stimulating case it had been… stretching their abilities to the limits and teaching them SO much and how can they ever thank him for not being angry at them and letting them learn the hard way to be better officers…?

Into the sudden stillness at the table, Richard relents and sits back, "Uh-HUH. Well, all right. That all makes perfect sense and it could possibly be true… but I don't believe a word of it." He makes them wait a tense moment then huffs, "Just don't let it happen again."

Fidel lets out a breath, "Thank you, Chief! I didn't want to spend the rest of my career doing shore patrol on some god-forsaken island out in the back of beyond!"

Richard clinks beers with the young man, "No worries there, Fidel. I foresee you running your own station and calling me every day to tell me about your latest successful case. I will sit here in the evenings and wonder how I manage without you at my side."

"Hey, what about me?" squawks Dwayne.

Richard gives him a bland look, "Well, who else will be sitting with me and missing Fidel?"

Dwayne smiles and clinks his beer with the two of them, "Amen to that, Chief. We can follow the boy's exploits together, hey?"

Richard sets down his bottle and regards the tabletop in a way that doesn't fool Camille one bit. She sits up. _This ought to be good_. He runs a finger down the neck of his bottle and casually asks, "By the by, Dwayne, what is the other thing that you hate about me?"

Dwayne chokes on his beer and slams it down with a betrayed look to Fidel.

Fidel shrugs, "It was my payment for his forgiveness, sorry."

Dwayne hangs his head, "I REALLY hate that you are right every single time." He gives his Chief a smoky look from under lowered brows "Every. Single. Time! Aren't you ever wrong?"

Richard thinks about this then nods, "Yes, I can be, but I've got you to set me straight, don't I, Dwayne?" He lowers his voice, "In this regard, YOU are the hero, not me."

At Dwayne's puzzled look, his boss dips his head fractionally towards Camille then raises his eyebrows and smiles. Dwayne's eyes widen after a moment then he sweeps up his beer once more, "Bondeye, Chief! I'm glad I was right about somethin'!" Then he pauses too and whispers, "I'm not used to bein' the hero. What's it like?"

The two men go into a sudden huddle and Richard mutters, "It's daunting and fearsome. You dread the time must come when you will fail and everyone will see you as you really are… alone, unsure, scared, vulnerable." All this is said in a quiet rush.

"Except you never fail, Chief," Dwayne mutters back. "I don't think you CAN fail. You are somethin' else…" Here Dwayne drops a firm hand onto his Chief's arm, feels the slight start of surprise, "… and you're not alone anymore. You have us… especially HER." He gives Camille a nod.

At Camille's suspicious look, Richard leans in closer to murmur, "Don't congratulate me quite yet. Negotiations are on-going."

Dwayne glances sideways to Camille and sees how it is, "Oh, gotcha, Chief." He sits back and sighs, "Well, good luck. She's a puzzle and no mistake. You're a braver man than me and I hope you haven't set yourself an impossible task."

Richard sits back calmly, "No, I remember what you said about the lion. Let's see if it's really true."

Beach house, late

The memory of Doug Anderson's wide scared eyes follow Richard down into contented sleep that night.

VERY contented.

And a bit crowded.

And briefer than usual.

His bed seems narrower.

Lionesses take up a lot of room, it seems.

Dwayne WAS right and it IS true.

When lion he roar, she do answer.

End – part 9

**Next post will be on the Tuesday as I'm out of province on the Monday.**


	16. Chapter 16

Part 10 of 10

Beach house, later

It is full dark. Two shapes move on the bed, slow and satisfied but still awake enough to talk heart-to-heart. He can feel her muscles tense up in full-attack mode as she hisses, "Oh! How I wanted to PUNCH that man! Richard, how did you endure it? It was torture!"

"It was torture for me too, knowing that you saw and heard it. I worried awfully about what you must think of me! I was so afraid you'd start calling me 'Dick'."

She finds his face by braille and kisses him fiercely, "I think you are brave! And strong! And wonderful! Only a REAL man could withstand such abuse and rise above it! I'm so proud of you! I'm more in love with your big brain than ever!"

"ARE you? Truly? I thought everyone would agree with him and see me for what I am."

"We DO see you… and you're nothing like he said. Nothing at all. He never really knew you, did he? Not really. Just enough to know you were a threat to him. But you saw through all his base canards. You stuck to your guns, followed the scent, and you caught that pig in his own dirt, didn't you?"

"Well, yes, I did. Not a bad day's work for 'Dickie Boy', hey?" He smiles into the dark. Somehow that hated sobriquet no longer has any power over him. He knows absolutely that he will never hear it uttered by his team. And if anyone ever does slip and call him 'Dick', he will simply reply 'Please call me by my proper name' and pair it with his best DI smile and a veiled threat to jug up the offender.

Camille laughs softly, slides back to his side, "No, not a bad day's work at all. But tell me, does 'Dickie Boy' ALWAYS do it 'by the book'?" She kisses him again, long and slow and sweet, slipping a hand down his body to tell him exactly what she is teasing him about. As if he doesn't already know. He is a genius, after all, and no longer exactly clueless about women. ONE woman in particular.

He catches her errant hand and flips her over and presses her down hard onto the bed, "Now then, that all depends on which book you are referring to, doesn't it?" he growls into the surprised silence. He leans down to whisper into her ear, "I read a LOT, Camille, and not just at work."

She turns her head to whisper back at him, "I want it all, mon Coeur, chapter and verse. Don't leave anything out and read real slow."

He nuzzles her temple, glorying in those silken tresses, "I will. And you can translate. I'll wait while you search for just the right words. We have the rest of our lives and I intend to enjoy every minute of it."

She has no come-back to that. Somehow a cheeky or sassy response doesn't seem appropriate under the circumstances. She has reached her destination. It had been a very hard road to travel and she had despaired and agonized every step of the way but now she is home safe. She has found her harbour and it is every bit as heavenly as she'd dared hope.

END

**Back to Monday postings as of next week. Next up - S2 E6 – Be A Happy Richard.**


	17. Chapter 17

**S2 E6 – Be A Happy Richard**

Part 1 of 2

The Anderson case had been very difficult. Richard had lost his way a bit and it had been very hard for him to admit. The team's intervention had scraped everyone's nerves raw as they had no idea how he would take it what with his quirks, his temper, his sudden outbursts of pique, his Britishness, his general stroppiness. They just hadn't known what to expect.

What they got was the best possible outcome for everyone. He'd listened without prejudice, quietly mulled it over, and accepted it without rancor or blame. His apology had to be the most heart-felt on record. For him. It had gotten him back on track and this time, THIS time, he had hit the nail squarely on the head, slam-dunked, hit a homer, gotten it in one. Whatever euphemism you wanted to use, he'd DONE it! With chocolate sprinkles and a cherry on top!

But it seems to have burned him out somehow. He isn't happy. As Camille leans on the door jamb, she knows something is bothering him but what? With all his baggage and all his history and all his angst and all his Richardness, what is bugging him NOW? She has no clue so she resorts to her usual tactic. She will gently tease it out of him, "So, you finally got Doug Anderson. How does it feel?"

Richard pauses, sighs, and looks a bit puzzled, "Like maybe for the first time in his life he's got what he deserves." He stirs his tea slowly, not his usual imbibing self at all.

She leans down a bit, "Go on! Allow yourself a happy dance?" She swings her hands from side to side, sways her body gently, eyebrows up, silently imploring, _Can't you allow yourself just a little bit of joy?_

Evidently not. He looks up at her with 'give me a break' written all over his face. She keeps trying, keeping her voice low so the others won't overhear, "A little cheer? A smile, even?" He looks down and sighs unhappily.

She gives in and beseeches him, "Be a HAPPY Richard!" All she can think is, _If THIS doesn't make him happy, putting the slam on his worst enemy, then what will it take? What hope is there for me? Can my simple daydream of finding happiness with this man be truly hopeless? Am I doomed to failure and a life without him?_ The sheer magnitude of this possibility stuns her into silent grief.

Then he picks up his teacup and a miracle happens. "Uh-uh," he huffs, glancing up and shying a VERY quick wink out of his right eye that shoots straight to her heart, "Sir, to you."

She straightens up abruptly and has to look away. Her heart is rabbiting in her chest like a mad thing and she can't quite catch her breath. _Did I really see that tiny wink? Am I the one now twisting and bending the evidence to suit my wishes?_ She looks back to him, grave and speculative, schooling her face to calmness.

He takes a sip of tea and returns the look.

She waits a beat then allows herself a slow smile. Just in case the wink was real.

He smiles, looks away, shakes his head in a kind of helpless 'what can you do?' acceptance.

She sinks quietly into the chair opposite and watches him. Just in case the wink was real and he's not quite ready to slam the door in her face yet again. She can tell something's going on but what?

He gives her a long slow look then chuckles, "By all means, join me. Would you like some tea?"

Despite the gentle sarcasm, she nods. He stills. She tests the waters, "I think it's about time I did, don't you?" His arching eyebrow is her only answer. She stands, goes inside to the bar, and asks for a teacup.

There is sudden silence in the room. Catherine, Fidel, and Dwayne all stop talking. "I beg your pardon?" her mother asks. Camille nods over her shoulder and they all look. There's the Chief, watching them stoically. He lifts his own teacup and waggles it. Catherine reaches down below the bar and pulls out the matching china mate, "I've been saving this forever," she breathes and hands it over.

Just before she turns away, Camille flares her eyes and whispers, "Wish me luck," then she goes back outside to sit once more with the most fascinating man she knows.

He pours, casually asking, "Milk? Sugar?" His voice is polite and controlled, almost like someone who is simply pouring a cup of tea, but his eyes hint otherwise.

She is at a loss, "I don't know. How do I find out?"

This is something he can handle, "Take a sip." She does. "What do you think?" She wrinkles her nose. He huffs a quiet laugh and adds a splash of milk, "Try it now." She does and makes a thoughtful face. He stirs in a spoon of sugar. This gets a very negative reaction. He nods, takes her cup and quaffs it in a trice, sets it back down and repours. This time he adds a bit more milk and it is very much to her liking. As she sips slowly and learns the new taste, he nods, "Medium steep, two milks. Just so you know."

"Oh. So, there's a formula? Even for tea?"

He studies his cup, "There's a formula for everything, Camille." A beat of silence, then, "Are they watching us?"

She glances casually over her shoulder and three heads swivel away to look at something on the bar's surface. "Oh, yeah, like hawks," she answers as she turns back and shifts her chair to block their view of him. He smiles but says nothing. They sip their tea in comparative calm and she waits.

Finally, he sighs and sits back, "Your instincts remain true. I am not a happy Richard."

She waits for more but nothing is forthcoming so she prods gently, "I know. Why not? You got him. You have closure on a very painful part of your life. You SHOULD be happy."

He nods then shakes his head, "Yes, I should be happy. He's behind bars where he belongs and I proved myself the better man… except…"

She tenses up. God knows what's coming next because SHE sure doesn't! "Except?" she prompts.

"Except… he isn't really the problem. It's something he said. Something you heard. And I just can't live with it. No matter how I twist and bend the truth, I can't make it stop hurting."

She is alarmed now. That awful man had said a LOT of things that she wished she hadn't heard but it had opened up so much of Richard's life to her, as painful as it had been for both of them. She slips a hand quickly over his, "What? What did he say? If I can help in any way, I will. You must know that."

He quirks a quick glance up at her then gives a small crooked smile, "Well, don't make any promises until you know what I'm talking about."

She takes a steadying breath, "OK, but you know I'm here for you, right? Please say you do."

He nods, "Yes, I know. Finally, I know. You were a rock for me during this whole case. Even when you knew I was in the wrong, you still supported me. I never got that in my old life and I can't thank you enough. It's so new to me… having someone stand by me when I'm so totally bollocks."

She squeezes his hand and he graces her with another quick glance, "Richard, I wish I could tell you… I wish I could say…" She stops herself, takes a breath, "Thank you for accepting my support. I just wish you really knew…"

He is nodding, blushing a bit, he has finally nerved himself up to coming to the point, "Um… as for why I am unhappy… it's about what he said… Anderson, you know… about me never being married… never…"

She hushes, suddenly frightened, _Oh, please, please, please, don't let him say something that will break my heart,_ she screams into the frantic turmoil of her mind! Her hand clenches down on his and he looks up suddenly, sees the panic in her eyes, and gives her a puzzled look.

"You seem more upset than I am," he says. "That's a first. Should I stop? Are you uncomfortable?"

"I'm uncomfortable, all right! Please don't tell me you have a wife back in England!" She can barely get the words out through a choked throat. The future gutters down to a shadowy noose.

His eyes flash in surprise then he actually smiles, "A wife? Me?" He looks down, "No, Anderson had that right. No wife. No… well, no girlfriend that he knew of. I made very sure that my private life stayed private. Unlike some men, I don't need to trumpet my personal information to all and sundry."

Camille's pent up tension drains out of her back and the future roars out in all directions in glorious techni-colour. She thinks she hears an answering sigh from within and suspects her mother is watching her body English VERY carefully. She nods and loosens her grip on his hand and is surprised by his tightening grip on hers. She gives him a startled glance.

He is watching her closely, gauging her like she is a prime suspect. He coughs and sits up a little straighter, "Camille, I could be a happy Richard… if…"

The silence is absolute. She just has to say, "If?"

"If I was sure I had your support in ALL aspects of my life. If…"

She can't help herself, "If what, Richard? Can't you say it?"

He is tensing up now like he is ready to leap off a cliff or step out into traffic. She almost feels sorry for him but he's so close now to revealing something important. Her every sense is telling her a pivotal point has been reached. She only prays it is what she hopes it is. _Maybe this time he will say it? Maybe this time he has the courage? Maybe this time I haven't misread him so badly that I'm not making up a fairy tale in my own mind!_

He leans forward, pours them both a fresh cup of tea, sits back, and just looks at her.

She waits. He says nothing. She frowns. He looks down. She closes her eyes and says another quick prayer then looks right at him and says, "You DO have my support in all aspects of your life if you will accept it. Do you accept it? Can you accept it?" Before he can speak, she leans forward and whispers, "IS there someone waiting for you back in England? Anyone at all that has a claim on you?"

He slowly shakes his head, eyes not quite so shuttered, "No, there's no one."

She sits back, "Then what's your answer? Do you accept me into your life? Can I finally step in and be part of it? Can I be a happy Camille at last?" He slowly nods, not quite trusting his voice but his eyes begin to shine. She sees his hesitation, "But you have reservations. I can see it. You don't trust me?"

He licks his lips, "It's very hard for me to even contemplate the idea of letting someone into my life let alone sharing myself, my home, my privacy. How do I manage it?"

She puts her hand over his again, "You do it one day at a time, minute by minute if you have to. We take one step at a time and work together and make sure it feels right for both of us. We manage it with love and respect and friendship. Does that seem possible to you?"

He nods again, "I'm not the easiest person to get along with." At her loud scoff he continues, "As you well know. But I'd like to try. I really would. This is what's been bothering me all this time. That Anderson might have been right about ONE thing in my life that I tried so hard to keep from him." His hand turns over beneath hers and their fingers gently entwine, "I would VERY much like to prove him wrong and save my sorry little life at the same time."

They sit quietly, looking into each other's eyes. Finally she smiles, "Correct me if I'm wrong but did you just open up the whole idea of dating?"

He thinks this over. Her heart thuds painfully, _Maybe a quip wasn't the best response here?_ Then he nods, "If you like but I think we know enough about each other to make an informed decision right now. What do you think? Can we make a go of it? You and I?"

END – part 1


	18. Chapter 18

Part 2 of 2

Now it is her turn to think it over. She knows what her answer is but somehow she doesn't think he'll appreciate her little happy dance all over the street and in front of so many witnesses! She swallows and nods slowly, "Yes, we can. I'm sure of it."

He lets out a pent-up breath and leans forward, "And, now, one more very important question." She leans in automatically and wishes the world would stop for just a moment so she doesn't miss a word he says next. His small dimple flashes then is gone again, "Can a happy Richard be enough for you?"

She stills and looks at him with amazement. He is waiting for an answer as he really doesn't seem to know. Richard to the very end. She slips both hands over his and squeezes, "Yes, a happy Richard is my dearest wish. Do you want a happy Camille?"

He nods stiffly, glancing down at their hands as if to make sure they are actually touching, "More than anything. I'm just not sure I can promise you happiness. Not really. I've never tried before."

"Richard, take me home with you and we can begin to find out. How does that sound?" At his astounded look she chuckles and adds, "Just being with you makes me happy, even when we're fighting, so I imagine we're off to a good start."

"I see," he muses, "So maybe we should start a fight and see where it leads us."

"Mmm, and let's begin by ordering seafood for supper," she chirps saucily.

"Seafood? You know very well I cannot abide anything on a plate with eyes!" he huffs, all thoughts of romance falling away at the prospect of fishy faces coming his way.

She laughs, stands, and goes to the doorway calling over her shoulder at him, "Good! I'll order two plates with big googly eyes and we can get started!" She holds up two fingers to her mother who nods swiftly and heads for the kitchen.

He bolts to his feet and chases her inside, catching at her arm, "Absolutely NOT! I can't possibly…"

Camille turns to him, puts a hand on his arm, and whispers, "There! How did that feel?"

He halts and gives her a lost look that slowly clears up as he replays the past few minutes of conversation in his head. He smiles, "It feels pretty damn good… but… Camille… eyes!" He shivers.

"Relax, I'm in your life now, remember? It's MY job to take care of you - so I'll decapitate whatever is upsetting you and you will be safe forevermore." She throws up her hands, "Tout fini!"

He follows her to a quiet table where they sit, "Oh, I see. Well, please don't get the idea that whacking the head off whatever is bothering me can solve every crisis we have in our future."

As Dwayne and Fidel are placing their own orders with every intention of joining them, she whispers, "No, of course not, but somehow I get the feeling that it will solve MOST of our problems." She gives him a mock stern look, "As long as YOU don't become the problem."

He swallows, "Uh-huh, duly noted." Now he smiles and leans forward, chin in hand, "Tell me, this 'Frenchness' of yours, does it spill over into other areas of your personality?"

She gives him a slow look, "I thought you knew. My 'Frenchness' IS my personality!"

He lays his napkin in his lap rather thoroughly, in her humble opinion, and murmurs, "Oh, good, I was rather hoping that was the case. We have a major détente to work out then." He returns her look, "After supper. My place. You bring the attitude, I'll supply the wine."

She nods and suddenly realizes that his eyes have changed colour slightly. _Oh, I can't wait to get to the bottom of that_ , she thinks! Her contemplation of his face is interrupted by her Maman's approach with their first meal as a couple and somehow she thinks Maman already knows. "Oh, you'll be supplying a lot more than that, believe me," she whispers as she takes her plate with thanks and puts it down. Then she takes HIS plate and removes the head of everything even remotely biological. Richard and Catherine watch her do it. Her mastery at dismemberment impresses them both.

Catherine quirks an eyebrow at him and mutters, "Careful, chéri," before retreating to safety back behind the bar. She then hands Dwayne a bottle of wine which he brings over quite happily.

"Hey!" Dwayne crows, "We're celebratin' something here! Must be the bangin' up of good ol' Dougie Anderson!"

"Yes," Richard answers heartily, "the settling of old scores and the beginning of new adventures." He tucks into his supper with gusto, like a man with a goal and not much time to achieve it.

As the four of them settle into their meals, they toast each other and the station. Richard actually makes a little speech that makes them very proud.

Dwayne laughs and holds his glass up, "Oh, you bet, Chief! We're the best team in the islands and we're just gettin' better, aren't we?"

Richard locks eyes with Camille over the rim of his glass, "Indeed, we are, Dwayne, better and better all the time. Soon we won't even need to gather clues. We'll just ESP the malefactors right into the cells!"

Fidel laughs, "Won't THAT be a much shorter work day? I'm all for ESP policing!"

Camille puts down her glass, closes her eyes, rubs her temples, "I'm ESPing right now. Anyone care to tune in?" She runs her ankle up Richard's calf and he almost drops his wine into his lap. She chides him, "Can't hold your wine, sir? Maybe you'd better call it a night and go home early?"

Fidel and Dwayne give her a mystified look. _Camille? Sending the Chief home early? That's a first!_

The Chief sets down his knife and fork, his meal done and dusted, "Yes, Sergeant, I believe you are right. I'm more than ready to call it a night. Care to drive me home?"

She scoffs, "What! You can't walk?" Her ankle continues to signal to her the swell of his calf which is hinting quite strenuously that walking will not be a problem.

"No, I can't. I understand there is a dark moon tonight. I won't be able to find my way."

Camille smirks and hands the keys to Fidel, "Here, you keep the truck. I'll see the Detective Inspector home as he needs help finding his way. It's a long beach, after all."

"Yes," Fidel agrees, picking up on the vibe between his superior officers, "it's a VERY long beach. Take your time and make sure he gets home safely." Camille's hand on the Chief's elbow seems a bit proprietary as she coaxes him to his feet. Fidel smiles to see it.

Dwayne is finishing the wine and cheers the team once more, "Here's to the best team in the islands! I'm so happy to be part of it. Think of the heights we can reach if we really put our minds to it!"

Richard laughs, "Go home, Dwayne. You'll need all your energies for tomorrow. Doug Anderson will be a handful every step of the way. We don't want anything to go wrong with his incarceration, do we?"

Dwayne clinks down his glass and stands up, "No! We don't! That slimy git isn't slippin' the net! Not on MY watch!" He turns to Fidel, "I'll be in bright and early tomorrow mornin' to relieve you. Don't you go listenin' to anythin' that man says tonight! He'll try to convince you it's all a mistake and the Chief is wrong about everythin'! Just ignore whatever he says."

Fidel laughs, jingling the keys, "Oh, no worries there. Our Chief is never wrong."

Richard flushes and ducks his head, "Thank you for that, both of you. I appreciate your faith in me."

Dwayne pats his arm, "That's all right, Chief, you go home now and rest. You've done all the hard work. Now it's our turn to make sure that creep stays behind bars for the rest of his natural born life!" He salutes Richard and marches out the door into the darkening night.

Fidel nods, "Me, too, Chief. I'll make sure Anderson has no complaints about his first night in the cells. You enjoy your evening." He turns to Camille, "You'll be sure to take good care of him, right?"

Camille gives him a conspiratorial look, "Oh, sure, he's in good hands."

Fidel smiles as he leaves their table, "I'm sure he is."

Richard watches the young man walk out into the night then turns to Camille, "Why do I sense that a completely different conversation took place here in plain view and without my knowledge?"

She shrugs and grips his arm a bit tighter, "No idea. So! Ready to venture out into the dark?" She gives a slow nod to her mother who smiles and nods back.

He pats her hand, "As ready as I ever am which is to say not ready at all. But I have you at my side now, don't I? That has to count for something." He waves to Catherine and heads for the door.

As they step out into the night, Camille takes advantage of the sudden dark to kiss him covertly, "Yes, it counts for a LOT! Careful, sir, it gets a bit bumpy here. Better hold onto my arm else you might come to harm on these rocks."

He takes her arm very firmly, tucks it into his side, "Heaven forbid I come to harm. People might say that you planned the whole thing."

She snuggles into him, "Yes, they might at that… and they would be right!"

They walk in companionable silence for many minutes before he ventures, "'DID you plan it? Any of it?"

She hesitates before replying, "I didn't really plan. I was just hoping, hoping with all my might that you would finally see me, accept me, allow me into your life. I was so scared you had no feelings for me or you did but you would never act on them. You can be SO English." This time the slur sounded proud.

He holds her a bit tighter, "I had feelings for you. I just didn't know how to tell you or admit it to myself. Just think, we have Doug Anderson to thank for bringing us together! Who would have believed it? Not me, certainly! I can almost forgive him all those miserable years in Croydon. Almost."

She leans into him, "Yes, who would have believed it? He is so awful and yet he performed a miracle. Will he try to use our relationship against us, do you think?"

"Oh, yes. He will play every dirty trick and use every sleazy underhanded move he can think of! We'll have to be very careful in our professional duties until he's gone. We don't want to give him the slightest idea that we're involved. He must never find out about tonight."

She gulps and makes the supreme sacrifice, her heart twisting and her brain screaming, "You're right. Maybe we should put tonight's plans on hold? Just to be safe? Once you're home I can just leave…"

He doesn't give her time to even finish the sentence, "NO! Once I'm home, YOU'RE home too. This whole episode has been so painful that I can't bear to finish it without you in my arms. Please don't make me wait another day. Camille, will you stay with me?"

She has trouble speaking through a tight throat, "Yes, Richard, I'll stay. I don't really want to leave you but I felt obligated to at least make the offer. Thank you for turning me down."

His arm goes around her shoulders and he murmurs, "I would NEVER turn you down, dearest. Not now that I know. Surely you realize that?"

As his little house comes into view, she sighs, "I know it now. Finally and at last, I know it."

They mount the steps onto the veranda and he unlocks the door. She hesitates on the thresh hold, savouring the moment, meeting his eyes (just a glint in the dark but she is sure she sees green fire there) and purrs, "Everything changes right here, right now. Once I step over through that doorway, our lives will never be the same."

He stoops suddenly and scoops her up into his arms. Her hands fly around his neck in surprise and she is flabbergasted into silence. He smiles to see it, "Good. I'm tired of the same old same old. Time to shake things up a bit and you are just what the doctor ordered." He kisses her as he steps over the thresh hold and gently heels the door shut behind them.

It is indeed a dark moonless night but candles take care of any visibility problems and a mature Rioja takes care of any shyness problems and Doug Anderson's first night behind bars is celebrated like no other case before or after.

END

**Next up: S2 E6 – The Green-Eyed Monster**


	19. Chapter 19

**S2 E6 - The Green-Eyed Monster**

Part 1 of 5

The Villa

June Anderson turns off the TV. _Weather report_ , she scoffs to herself, _all they need to show is numbers in the 100's and it would still be true!_ She rolls herself over to the deck doors, looks out into blazing purgatory and fumes, _Why did I let him talk me into coming here? Why do I let him talk to me at all?_

She knows exactly what he's doing down there in the town. _The swine. How I hate him._

Sighing, she turns her chair and wheels over to the phone and makes a call.

When the intruder appears 15 minutes later, the room is empty.

In Town

Richard Poole quietly hums to himself as he strides purposely to La Kaz's front door. It is tea-time and he couldn't be happier. Lately Catherine seems to take better care with the heavenly brew and he is looking forward to…

A rough voice freezes him in his tracks. His pupils dilate and his breath hushes in his chest. Without thought he ducks out of sight just as Doug Anderson hulks out of La Kaz and passes within inches of Richard's cover. Richard watches the nightmarish backend of his worst enemy plod away. Memories flood back into his head, memories he had really really hoped he'd never have to think about ever again.

As soon as Anderson is out of sight, Richard dekes around a corner and heads off at speed. _Anderson! Doug Anderson! Here on Saint-Marie! Oh, how much worse can Life get? AND I still don't have my tea! Well, nothing for it… I must hie off to the next best place… the Resort where I found my first cup all those many months ago. It isn't as good as Catherine's but…_

When in desperate times, a man does what he must in order to stay civilized.

The Resort

Still upset but settling a bit from his shock, Richard surveys the room. The only seat open is at a table with a lone woman. Normally he would never think to impose but… tea! He asks and she says yes.

As he sits and orders, he observes the woman. She looks as if she's had a shock too. None of his business, of course, but one has to keep up appearances and so he inquires as they introduce themselves to each other.

He learns several astonishing things in quick succession. The woman is June Anderson… Doug Anderson's wife! He is stunned. _This obviously lovely educated woman? Married to that boor?_ More surprises follow. She has snuck out of her villa, gone AWOL. She is tired of Dougie and his drinking and absentee-husband routine and his affairs with able-bodied women.

It is only then that he notices the wheelchair tucked neatly away in a nearby alcove. He doesn't know what to say so he says nothing. Camille has been working on him quite strenuously and he has learned that if he has nothing nice to say, don't say anything at all.

During his long silence, June asks him why HE'S so upset… and after a mighty struggle to be polite he tells her he just narrowly avoided a horrible person from his past… none other than her dearly despised husband!

"Dougie? You know Dougie? What are the chances of that? It's almost inconceivable," she laughs.

"I wish HE'D been inconceived! That man made my life pure hell for over two years. How I dreamed of retribution but I just didn't know how to achieve it. Fortune finally favoured me and a convenient promotion got rid of him from my station."

June grumbles, "I wish I could get rid of him and I like the idea of retribution. He deserves full measure for what he's put me through. I just know he's taking up with some poor unsuspecting woman as we speak! The man is a philandering dog. And that's insulting all dogs."

Richard starts and looks worried, "Do you really think so?" At June's nod, he takes out his cell phone and makes a quick call. He turns back to her when he is done, "Well, he's certainly making a nuisance of himself at a friend's establishment but I've warned her to keep her distance just the same. She knew he was married and has put him in his place already. Nice to know there's SOME people he can't deceive." He glances up at his table-mate, "Sorry. That wasn't very nice, was it?"

June laughs, "That's all right. He hasn't fooled me for a long time. He's just after my money. If anything happens to me then my money goes to my foolish sister who thinks she's in love with him, can you believe it? It wouldn't surprise me at all if he takes up with her if I suffer a premature death."

"You don't really believe that, do you? Why would you allow your sister to suffer what you're going through? Do you hate her that much? Why would you wish Doug Anderson on anyone?"

June studies the green eyes across the table and something shifts in her world view, "No, I don't hate her that much. In fact, you are absolutely right. I wouldn't let her to go through this. In FACT, I won't allow MYSELF to go through this… not any longer." She places both hands on the table top and pronounces, "I am going to divorce him. You've just decided it for me. Thank you, Richard."

He smiles then looks grim, "Don't tell HIM that. He's always hated me and I'll get the blame," but he feels a tiny stab of satisfaction all the same.

June looks grim too then smiles, "Do you know what would REALLY get back at him? If I tell him I've met a wonderful man who made me realize I am wasting my life and that I need a divorce so I can be happy with a new love."

"Oh, yes? And who is this unlucky man that Dougie will want to kill 101 per cent?"

She lowers her eyes coquettishly over her tea cup, "Why, it's YOU, Richard. Revenge for BOTH of us!"

It takes some fast talk and cleverness to sway him to her plan. The allure of getting the better of Dougie Anderson is just SO attractive that he finally agrees to help her against his better judgement. After a few more minutes of strategizing, he almost feels comfortable with the scheme.

He straightens his shoulders and settles back into his chair, a pleased smile on his face. She quirks her eyebrows at him and he picks up the teapot and pours her a fresh cup, "So, ah, Mrs. Anderson… just HOW married are you?" They laugh together, co-conspirators by chance and now by choice.

By the time their lunch is over, they have it all mapped out. June will go home to confront Dougie about his infidelities and alienation of affections. She will then inform him that she's met someone and wants to start a new life. She is going to divorce Dougie and take a chance on the new man.

 _And who is this new man_ , he will ask?

 _Why, dearest, it is an old colleague and work-mate of yours from Croydon… none other than sweet dear lovely Richard Poole who JUST happens to live here on Saint-Marie. Fancy that._

 _That's what you get for dragging me to this hell-hole against my will… but… silver lining… I met an angel!_

 _Funny old world, innit?_

Richard and June toast each other with tea. It's a fabulous plan! What could possibly go wrong?

END – part 1


	20. Chapter 20

Part 2 of 5

The Station, 1 hour later

Richard is on tender-hooks. Pins and needles. Butterflies in his stomach. WHAT ever! He's checked his top drawer a dozen times. His battle baton is right where he needs it in case he has to whip it out and defend himself. He really wishes he had a gun but beggars can't be choosers, so, baton it is!

He is extremely glad to welcome Camille back from her rounds and feels a bit safer with a tiger guarding his front door - and a tiger is EXACTLY what he needs when Dougie arrives!

There is the screech of brakes and a low 'whump' as a vehicle slams into a concrete traffic barrier in the parking lot below. A loud door slam is heard then a mad rush of footsteps and suddenly… there he is… Doug Anderson… silhouetted in all his bullying glory in the doorway… practically vibrating with hatred and outraged disbelief.

Richard experiences a quixotic split vision and it is so unexpected that he actually takes a moment to savour it. Him… and Dougie… facing off across a police station… RICHARD'S police station… and it feels so right… so well earned… that he actually smiles. For the first time in his life, Richard welcomes Dougie's regard because Richard knows something that Dougie does not. Richard is boss of this yard and Dougie is just a by-stander. This feeling swells most gloriously in Richard's breast and he actually leans back in his chair and just gives Dougie the lugubrious eye.

Dougie didn't expect that. Dougie doesn't like it. Dougie can't quite believe it. Dickie Boy… sitting there… in the chair of authority… looking completely at home. This can't be true. This can't be allowed to continue. Measures must be taken to rectify the proper scheme of things in a world where Dickie Boys are taught to keep their proper place!

Dougie takes a deep breath and makes his first move. He strides in as far as the first manned desk and stands with hands on hips like the top-dog and bellows, "What is this ABSOLUTE clabber my wife tells me? Her? And YOU? Are you in-SANE? She's MY wife and you are a mealy little maggot that isn't fit to kiss her foot let alone try to take her away from ME!"

Camille is frozen at her desk, staring up at Dougie who ignores her completely as he ignores ALL inferior officers. They don't exist unless he needs them for something and right now he doesn't need anything except to get his hands around Dickie's throat! He sobers briefly. This officer is an unwelcome witness. Can't get TOO physical with a witness around. He is just beginning to cool down when Dickie's next words fan the flames of hatred to leaping heights.

"Kiss her foot? I hardly THINK so. I'm pretty sure I can give her the pleasure that she deserves and you're incapable of even conceiving, Douglas. After all, I've the brains to figure things out. Unlike you. Besides, I've only just met June. Is it MY fault that a stranger of 1 hour's acquaintance can out-do YOU? If you can't be a proper husband, let someone else try!"

When Camille whirls around to fix astonished eyes upon Richard, Richard suddenly realizes that maybe he should have warned her of the gag. He tries to signal to her that he is just following a script but, of course, this cannot be conveyed by eyebrow and he fails absolutely in bringing her up to speed. Her wide astounded eyes stab his heart most cruelly. _Uh, oh_ , he thinks, _slight oversight!_

But the realization of his mistake in overlooking to inform all by-standers of the plan is interrupted by Dougie's roar of rage as he surges forward with murder in his eye. Even as Richard surges out of his chair in answering challenge, baton in hand, there is a furious skirl of motion in front of Dougie and Camille is blocking the way.

Dougie doesn't think. He lashes out with a hard-fisted punch that knocks Camille away and clears the path to his nemesis. He points a menacing finger right at Richard's heart as he rounds Camille's desk, teeth clenched, and begins his charge…

… which ends in a thunderous crash as Camille takes him down from behind.

Richard had bolted forward as he witnesses Dougie's assault on Camille, heart in throat, taken totally by surprise and scared to death for her welfare. He actually drops the baton and is falling to his knees to scoop Camille up in his arms when her attack on Anderson stops his motion.

He is frozen in a half-crouch when Camille's eyes meet his above Dougie's stunned body. She snarls around a split lip, "Don't just stand there! Help me!" That's all the input Richard needs. He is cuffing Dougie with Camille's help before the man can get his breath back.

Together they pull Dougie to his feet and man-handle him into a cell before he can regain his wits. The sound of the cell door clanging shut is the sweetest music Richard can ever remember hearing. He stands back with satisfaction, crosses his arms, and grins happily. He whisks out his handkerchief and turns to Camille to render aid but he is still smiling.

 _Doug Anderson… in MY cell… in MY station… and bang to rights with assault upon not one but TWO police officers! Oh, this couldn't be nicer. I can't wait to tell June that her plan worked perfectly!_

Dougie rushes the bars and begins screaming abuse. Camille stands beside Richard, shocked and appalled at what she is hearing! Such language! Such awful insults and slurs upon Richard from his days at Croydon. But worst of all… the absolute most shocking thing of all… is the news that Richard is having an affair with this man's wife!

When Dougie begins threatening to kill Richard with his bare hands, Camille has had enough. She goes back out to her desk but it isn't far enough to drown out the despicable threats so she grabs some ice from the fridge and continues out onto the veranda where the man's voice is just a dull roar.

She throws herself onto a bench and sinks her head in her hands, holding the handkerchief-wrapped ice to her swelling lip. _Richard! And another woman! Just when things are beginning to look promising between us. Just when I am almost ready to make a move on him… any day now… any day… Can things get any worse?_ She looks up into the blank careless sky and shouts, "I HATE my LIFE!"

And, of course, it gets worse.

Richard plops himself down beside her, crosses his arms, and laughs and laughs.

She rounds on him and gives him SUCH a punch that he yowls in surprise, "Ow! Camille! What was THAT for?"

"That's for being a despicable thing in pants… you… you… you MAN you!" She leaps to her feet and rushes down the steps and is gone into town before he can even begin to find his words.

END – part 2


	21. Chapter 21

**Hmmm, somehow I lost track of what day it was and posted on FF on a Friday instead of a Monday. Oh well, back to the normally scheduled program. FF on Mondays, AO3 on Fridays.**

PART 3

He rubs his shoulder, _Owww, that really hurt! What has gotten into her? Usually she lets me get a word in edgewise before beating me up but_ … He shrugs. _Women! Who can fathom their minds? Not me, certainly. She's probably rushed off for First Aid at La Kaz. I'll check on her a little later. Right now, I have things to do. Right now…_

He settles back, enjoying the novel sensation of listening to verbal abuse that actually amuses him now. _Oh, revenge is SO sweet! I'll have to have a stern talk with myself later. Much later. After all, I shouldn't be enjoying this as much as I am._ His eyes slip shut. _Music to my ears!_

His reverie is interrupted several minutes later by the clatter of Dwayne and Fidel racing up the stairs with wild looks. Richard leaps to his feet, alarmed, "What is it?"

The men gather around him, jostling and checking him over. Dwayne finally gives a relieved smile, "Oh, Chief! Camille went past us in the street like a whirlwind and told us to get up here because you are goin' to DIE!"

Richard instinctively clutches his tie, "Die? Me?! How?" Fidel coughs and Dwayne is suddenly silent. "Well? How am I going to die?"

"Um, she said she is goin' to kill you herself if the crazy man in the cells doesn't do it first. What in the world is goin' on?" Both men pause as they suddenly notice Anderson's voice still bellowing in the background. Their eyes go wide.

"Oh, um, well… it's complicated… and I don't think Camille fully understands the…"

Richard's explanation is also interrupted… by the phone. Fidel rushes in to pick up then comes back out with an extremely odd look on his face. Both Richard and Dwayne turn to look at him with renewed alarm.

"What?" Richard blurts. Things seem to be getting out of control and gaining steam. "What is it NOW?"

"That was Catherine. She says the love of your life, the crazy man's wife, AND Camille are both waiting for you down at La Kaz. The crazy man's wife wants you to join her so you two can begin planning your new life together... and…"

Richard swings around to face Fidel as his eyebrows fly up in shock, "... and WHAT?" Fidel hesitates then finishes, "… and Camille just wants to 'talk' to you." The air quotation marks Fidel makes when he says the word 'talk' tells Richard all he needs to know about Catherine's tone of voice during the call.

Now it is Dwayne's turn to swing around and goggle at his boss, "WHAT?" Fidel steps to Dwayne's side and now they both goggle at him.

Richard discovers that he doesn't LIKE being goggled at. "Stop that!" he barks. They don't. He begins to stutter some sort of explanation but he is interrupted YET AGAIN by Dwayne's slap on the back.

"Ah, man, Chief! I didn't know you had it in you!" he laughs. "THIS will put the shark amongst the guppies for sure! Oh, I can just imagine Camille's face! Did she know about this woman before today?"

"I only met the woman today," Richard stammers. This seems to please Dwayne all the more as he leans over and roars with laughter. Richard swells up in bossly indignation, "Dwayne, I don't think you grasp the importance of…"

Dwayne wipes his eyes, "Oh, I grasp, all right, I grasp it just fine! Are you goin' to go down there and face your fancy new woman while Camille scoops out your innards with her eyes? And Catherine backin' her up with sharp metal objects? Huh? Are you? Can I come watch?"

"NO! I mean, yes… I mean…" Richard can't concentrate what with this sudden madness of Camille's, June's unexpected presence at La Kaz, and Dougie's continual bellowing so he does the only thing he can. He turns to Fidel and tells him to begin the paperwork for Dougie's arrest. He turns to Dwayne and tells him to start a background check on Dougie and his wife.

Dwayne seems to find this very amusing, "Sure thing, Chief. Now that you have her on the hook, you want to find out all about her. Is she rich, do you think?"

"NO! And I mean NO! It was a ruse and a bit of a joke but it's all gotten out of hand. Look, you two take care of the prisoner. I'll go down to get Camille and we'll be back in a few minutes to prepare our statements. Attacking two police officers ought to get him some decent jail time, I should hope?"

"Right, right," Dwayne nods, "Get the husband out of the way and then the wife can play. I get it."

Richard fixes him with a gimlet eye, "You want to know something, Officer Myers? You have a very nasty turn of mind. We should discuss this further at your next quarterly review."

Dwayne sobers instantly, "Right, Chief. Sorry, Chief. You go. We'll handle the husband." Together he and Fidel watch the Chief descend the steps and head into town then Dwayne elbows Fidel in the ribs, "Kinda like HE'S gonna handle the wife, hey?"

Fidel gives him a long-suffering look, "The Chief has a point, Dwayne. You shouldn't jump to conclusions until you have all the facts. Hasn't he taught you anything?" He turns and goes into the station.

Dwayne's grin fades into impatience, "Oh, you! You're no fun. This is the most excitement we've had around here in weeks! Let me enjoy it!" As he follows Fidel into the building, he pauses and turns to look downhill, muttering, "Ah, man, I wish I could watch."

END – part 3


	22. Chapter 22

Part 4

La Kaz

Richard's confidence dwindles in direct proportion to the distance to his destination. By the time he's reached Catherine's doorstep, he is wishing a bus would run him over. He checks the street carefully. No bus. Not even an Erzuli float. He sighs. _Nothing for it._ He steps inside.

The sharp contrast from blazing sunlight to dim shadow is usually most welcome. Not today. He gulps and strides manfully to the bar. Once there, he is at a bit of a loss so he leans casually on it and looks around. No one is in the room. _Uh oh, that means the women… ALL the women… are in the back room… together._ His heartbeat ups another notch.

There is a somehow imperious swish of fabric and now Catherine is standing in the inner doorway with such a strange look on her face that he is momentarily nonplussed. _Oh. Catherine. Um._ He dithers for a moment then takes a deep breath, "Are they in there?"

Catherine nods and steps aside. She gives him a most penetrating stare as he passes on his way through the door. "I hope you know what you are doing," she murmurs and it unsettles him even more.

He is looking back over his shoulder when he enters the inner room and so doesn't see what is waiting for him until it is too late. When he turns forward, he is met by two sets of mad eyes. His feet halt of their own accord and he would have backed right out of the room except he knows Catherine is waiting outside… and he doubts she will let him escape.

So he moves slowly into the room and stands in front of the only occupied table, his eyes troubled and his breath whistling in a suddenly dry throat. Camille and June are sitting across from each other and they are eyeing him like he is a prize bit of beef about to be divvied up.

He likes THIS look even less than being goggled at. It is SO much worse!

June starts the proceedings, "Well, Richard? Did my plan work?"

Richard nods carefully, "Um, yes. He's under arrest for assault on two police officers, uttering threats, disturbing the peace, and anything else I can think to throw at him." He hesitates, "Er, are you all right, Camille?" He winces at her swollen lip but at least the bleeding has stopped.

Camille just nods, never taking her intense regard from his face.

June smiles, "Oh, good, I'm bringing charges against him too. He attacked me at our villa. My sister stepped in and he began beating her! If Will Teague hadn't been delivering a new bottle of sunscreen and come to our defense I think Doug would have killed us both. As it is, Janice and Will are being patched up at the hospital and I'm sure they will also wish to bring charges." She sits back and sighs a bit sadly, "And now I'm going to be a free woman! Oh, I should have divorced him long ago… but now I will and gladly too. Time to start my new life." Here she gives him a strange look, "My new life with YOU, Richard."

Richard stiffens in shock, "With me? Now, June, this started as a bit of a lark but now it's blown up all out of proportion! You wanted a divorce and I wanted revenge, remember? It was just a simple ruse."

June nods contemplatively, "Perhaps. But you've opened my eyes, Richard. I think you are JUST the sort of man I could be happy with and so I WILL divorce Douglas and take up with you." She gives him a measuring look, "First thing I'll do is get you a new wardrobe. Those wool suits may be alright for when we return to England but not for here. I'll extend the lease on my villa and you can move in today. A few months of settling in together will suit me just fine. Then we can go home and you'll be out of this tropical hell-hole forever!" She sits back with a satisfied 'that's YOU done and dusted' look.

Into the sudden deafening silence, Richard hears a loud thumping. It is some moments before he realizes it is his heart and it is going to gallop right out of his chest if he doesn't DO something… SAY something! All he can see is Camille's stricken eyes. All he can think of is her solid dependable support through every single case they've ever worked on. All he can feel is his bright and shining future turning to dust.

He shakes himself. _No! This is preposterous! Gentleman though I may be, I am NOT allowing someone to run rough-shod over me again! I have just put one bully behind bars. I am NOT letting another bully take his place._ He gives June Anderson a quiet look, suddenly seeing the stubborn tilt of her chin, the 'don't mess with ME, Dickie Boy!' look in her eye, and knows irrefutably that this woman is not for him. Not for him at all.

He takes a deep breath and shoots his cuffs as casually as he can manage (under the circs), "I'm very sorry, June, but that isn't going to happen. I'm sure you're a lovely person…" … _and probably a fitting match for good old Dougie but not for me_ , he thinks "… but I already have plans for my future. Thank you very much for the kind offer but I'll be staying here on Saint Marie with the woman of my own choice." _There_ , he thinks, _that ought to settle the matter._

His assurance falters a bit when BOTH women cross their arms and give him THE LOOK. He's used to seeing it from Camille but getting it double-barreled like this really smarts! He crosses his arms in self- defense, lifts his chin defiantly, and stands his ground.

June intones menacingly, "Oh, yes? And who is this mystery woman, may I ask? Can she offer you a life of luxury? Is she well-connected with the upper class? Is she capable of advancing your career? Assuming, of course, I decide you shall continue in your quaint penchant for law enforcement?"

At this, Richard feels hot resentment flush through him. "I am not a PET!" he grits out. His pique intensifies at June's smug face and before he hears himself he is saying, "My chosen match is ALSO in the field of law enforcement and is perfectly suited to me! There'll be no question of interfering with my career and there will certainly be no return to England!"

His hot look to June is interrupted by a low growl, "Oh, yes? And who IS this lady cop that you've singled out, hmm? Someone who can tolerate your outrageous actions, I hope? Someone who doesn't mind living with a crazy man?"

His eyes jerk across the table. It is Camille and suddenly there is very little air in the room.

"Oh. Um. Well. I've been meaning to discuss this with you for a while now…" he mutters.

Camille's brows come down and for some reason Richard is put in mind of looking down a gun barrel, "For a while now? For how LONG a while now?" She leans forward and Richard leans back, "A day? A month? A YEAR?" This last word is hissed and now he is thinking of snakes. Sleek, glistening, deadly beautiful snakes. With whirling hypnotizing eyes.

He has sense enough to know he is in trouble, worse trouble than before, but surely Camille must see what a farce this whole thing is? Surely she will support him in any way she can? Surely? He grabs onto his fall-back position - _when in trouble, Camille will dig me out_ \- and leaps bravely into the void.

"For a long while now!" he stutters in his best clipped no-nonsense tones. "It's just that I've been too busy to bring it up." He waits. No response. His mouth continues before he is ready, "But now seems like a perfect time."

The women wait, giving him all the time he needs to bring it up.

He sees this, breaks out in a light sweat but now his ire is up, and so he goes for broke, "All right, then! Since you're being so pig-headed, I will discuss it NOW!"

END – part 4


	23. Chapter 23

Part 5

June gives a sigh. _This ought to be good_ , she thinks and shies a quick glance to Camille.

But Camille has eyes only for the suited figure before them and nods gravely, "Go on. You have the floor, Detective Inspector."

He slumps slightly, "Don't call me that, not here, not now. I'm Richard to you…"

Camille's eyebrows go up, "Are you? Are you really? Not 'sir' or 'chief' or 'the boss'?"

He has the grace to look a bit chastened, "Well, no, not when we're in private. Surely you know that?"

She shakes her head, still looking stern, "And HOW would I know that, pray tell?"

He is beginning to look a bit worried, June notices. She gives Camille another glance. _Oh, yes, he's dealing with a master here. Poor man. He's done like dinner and doesn't even know it._ June schools her face to neutrality and sits back to enjoy the drama. _This is better than some of the stuff on the Beeb_.

His hands come up, palms held out in supplication, pleading with whatever gods may be watching and hoping to soften the stony French heart before him, "Come on, Camille! All our adventures together? All our intimate little chats? You and me? Comrades in arms? Two coppers together?" He stutters to a halt. He can see his words are bouncing right off her. _Hard-hearted woman! How can she throw me to the wolves like this? Why does she have to be so FRENCH?!_

He takes a step towards her, "Please, Camille, don't desert me now. I don't WANT to go back to England!" He turns to June, "I'm sure you can offer a rich life style but that simply isn't me. I need to be here. I need HER to be here with me. Sorry but that's just the way it is." He can't think of anything else to say. He's just put his entire life into a nutshell.

Camille finally sits back and huffs a breath, "Well! That was certainly eloquent. I've never heard you speak like that before." She levels a glare at him, "Mind you, you've never really talked to me about much at all, have you? Always the case. Always your work. Are you trying to tell me that you are finally ready to talk about what really matters?"

He nods, seeing a possible loophole out of his dilemma, approaches the table, "Yes, definitely. Sorry it took so long to… um… you know… come up. But now it has… come up, I mean… and I think it's high time we talked. Just you and me." He turns to June, "Sorry."

June jerks out of her reverie and harrumphs, "Well! I know when I'm not wanted. Catherine? Can you call me a taxi, please? Apparently I'm going home empty-handed."

June wheels from the table, starts for the door, turns back, "Oh, and Richard? That was the nicest rejection I've ever heard. If things don't work out, you know where to find me. My offer still stands." She can't help winking at his carefully stoic face then sees Camille smile from behind him and knows there is no hope for him at all. _Yes_ , she sighs, _I'm going home empty-handed. Damn._

Catherine's look as she assists June out makes Richard turn beet red. He moans quietly and covers his eyes, "Oh, super, abject servitude and durance vile all under the guise of wedlock. Lovely."

As soon as June and Catherine are gone, he turns back to Camille with blissful relief, "Thank you, Sergeant. That was a bit of a sticky wicket but you managed to pull my irons out of the fire, as usual." He claps his hands in bluff heartiness, "Well! So much for today's alarums! I'll see you back at the station, shall I?"

He manages to take ONE step away before her voice freezes him in his tracks.

"JUST a moment, RICH-ARD. Don't we have something to discuss?"

He turns back, a cold draft blowing down his spine. "Um, no, I don't think so?" he quavers.

She pats the chair beside her, "Oh, yes, we do. Come. Sit. Tell me all about how I'm your chosen one and what a wonderful life we will have together… just we two… coppers… comrades in arms..." This last phrase is purred very low and he is shocked as all the hair stands up on his body. Suddenly he is thinking about snakes again and he is helpless to look away from those mesmerizing eyes.

And that's when Catherine turns away from listening at the doorway, ushers June outside and helps the woman into a taxi, "Oh, well played, June. He's in there right now trying to save his bachelorhood but it won't do him any good. We all witnessed his proposal and I'M not going to let him off the hook!" She sighs happily, "Grandchildren. At last."

June laughs from the back seat of the vehicle, "Poor Richard, caught between a rock and a hard place, between me and two determined French women. It's a good thing I came into town and the taxi driver dropped me off at the wrong place, isn't it?"

"Yes," murmurs Catherine with a curious half-smile, "A very fortunate mistake indeed. Also that you overheard my daughter ranting about a certain someone's affair."

June sits back, thoughtful, "Mmm, my affair." She looks back to Catherine, "Do you think maybe…?"

Catherine straightens up decisively, "Non, sorry, but non. He belongs with us. Go home and search there. Surely there are more like him where he came from?"

As Catherine closes the door she hears a low forlorn reply, "Not so's you'd notice," then the taxi is pulling away, around the corner, gone.

Catherine sighs happily and sits by La Kaz's front door, cocks an ear, hears quiet earnest conversation issuing from within, and waits patiently for the future to come to her on the pitter patter of many many tiny beloved feet.

END

**Next up: 'How Many Ways Can I Defenestrate Dougie Anderson?'**


	24. Chapter 24

**Oh, I enjoyed myself WAY too much writing this. I'm sure the actor in question is a lovely person BUT I still wanted to do my own shooting… right between the eyes!**

 **S2 E6 - How Many Ways Can I Defenestrate Dougie Anderson?**

1\. After too many hits off the drinks cart, Dougie steps out the wrong door on his way to the loo and plunges to his death. By some HUGE miracle, no one else is hurt and the lightened plane arrives 10 minutes early. Bonus!

2\. If he survives the fall, the sharks get him.

3\. If he survives the sharks, he is run over by a drug-smuggling boat carrying fake bottles of beer stuffed full of whatever street drug is the current craze.

4\. If he makes it to La Kaz, he drinks from a beer bottle contaminated with its last load of drugs and dies of an unintentional overdose. No one suspects the bottle as June verifies his drug habit.

5\. As he steps out of La Kaz, he tells Catherine 'not to miss him'. She doesn't - and neither does the bus.

6\. He gets caught in a hold-up at the convenience store and takes a bullet meant for Eldred because the drugs from #4 kick in and he stumbles into the line of fire purely by accident. Unfortunately dies a hero.

7\. Upon returning to La Kaz, he gets into a shouting match with another man over inappropriate comments made to the man's wife. When tossed out, the bus from #5 doesn't miss him again.

8\. If he survives the bus, he is taken to the hospital for contusions where he suffers an unexpected and unforeseen allergic reaction to kissing-bug anti-venom that he spills all over himself while getting into a fist-fight with a cigarette-vending machine standing beside a drugs-trolley.

9\. When returning home to 'discover' his wife's death, he inadvertently drives his van off the villa driveway and crashes down the cliff, falling in front of the bus from #7 that finishes the job.

10\. If the van is parked OK, a sink-hole opens up just as he gets out and he disappears forever.

11\. He has a coronary when he sees Poole at the crime scene and realizes: a) the jig is up, and

b) his goose is cooked!

12\. While outside on the villa's deck picking on our boy, he trips, falls over the railing and breaks his bloody neck!

13\. If Poole prevents this, Janice rushes up, trips, and knocks Dougie over the railing. X marks the spot. Hah!

14\. On his way to the new villa, the van door flies open as they go around a corner and Dougie tumbles out to meet the bus once more from #5, 7, and 9.

15\. When he is in the station giving our shining light the gears, the overhead fan stutters to life, falls on him, and chops his head off. Bad news - the fan is now totally busted. Good news - new fan!

16\. If he sidesteps the fan, he is hit by a coconut as he leaves the station, falls down the stairs, limps into the parking lot where a bus…

17\. If he makes it back to the villa, he is upstairs leaning so far out into the stairwell trying to eavesdrop on Janice's police interview that he loses his balance and falls to his death.

18\. The humming bird that is feeding high up in the flowering trees by the villa's front gate buzz-bombs him while he is eavesdropping on our fascinator and his sergeant. Dougie goes over the rail from the second floor balcony and definitely breaks his bloody neck this time!

19\. When he orders Janice upstairs to pack, she is buzz-bombed by the hummingbird now trapped in the house. She slips off the stairs and crashes down onto him. Dougie is dead. The bird is OK.

20\. When he makes the supreme error of attacking our hero over his marital status, the steps collapse beneath him as he leaves - thus saving him from being shoved down those same stairs by Camille who has suddenly declared a life-long blood feud to the death with lumps on and a side order of poison!

21\. On his way back to the villa, the bus is now on fire and crashes him off a cliff and into the ocean.

22\. On his way to the station to 'congratulate' Dickie Boy for capturing June's murderer, the bus finally gets him by T-boning the van then pushing the van into a sudden sink-hole that dumps the wreckage over a cliff and into the ocean where the sharks…

23\. Ronnie Stuart strangles him in the cell. No one can get him out in time because the keys are lying on the bed. Everyone can SEE the keys and just KNOWS they are out of reach. Ronnie is OK.

24\. When he tries to bluff his way out of the station, he grapples with Dwayne and goes over the veranda railing and is hit by coconuts on his way down to breaking his neck one last time.

25\. He has a minor coronary during our luscious law-man's long and joyous reveal then a MAJOR coronary when Fidel plays the incriminating tape. The ambulance is stuck behind a burning bus and can't get to the station in time. No one offers to administer CPR so…

26\. He goes into custody but gives himself an aneurysm screaming abuse and awful lies all night long to Fidel who finally goes out onto the veranda for 10 minutes of peace and quiet and so misses Dougie's collapse.

27\. If he doesn't have the aneurysm, he is bitten by a kissing bug, has an unforeseen and unsuspected allergic reaction and is dead in minutes. The bug is OK.

28\. He spends the rest of his life behind bars wishing he had been just a little BIT luckier. You know – never going to the Caribbean for hols – or been a trucker like his Da wanted – or a banker as Mum wanted - - - **or never meeting that f***ing little squirt in the first place!**

29\. He tries to arrange a hit on his nemesis from prison but is so high on adulterated drugs funneled through the Caribbean that he mixes up his notes and arranges his OWN hit instead.

30\. His abusive father disappears BEFORE Douglas is born and his mother lives to a ripe old age. He becomes an exemplary officer and good friends with Richard Poole. Together they form an unbeatable partnership with an impressive solve rate. They go to the Caribbean for a BFF holiday to celebrate a spectacular bust where Poole falls in love with their maid who turns out to be an undercover officer (and FRENCH to boot!). He convinces Poole to stay and woo the woman to his side and Doug Anderson goes back home alone… a hero… at last.

END

**And that closes down this collection. Next up; season 2 episodes 7-8 which has ballooned to 15+ stories! Some serious editing to do by next week but I hope to keep to the Monday postings. Thanks to everyone for their kind comments. I'll try to keep you invested if you try to keep me on track. Goodness knows, I'd hate to wander off the path and get lost.**


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